DONNA  DIANA 


DONNA   DIANA 


DONNA    DIANA 


BY 


RICHARD    BAGOT 


AUTHOR   OF 


'A    ROMAN    MYSTERY,5     'CASTING    OF    NETS,' 
'THE   JUST   AND   THE   UNJUST* 


LONGMANS,    GREEN,    AND     CO, 

91    AND  93   FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW   YORK 
1902 


COPYRIGHT,  1902,  BY 
LONGMANS,  GREEN,  AND  CO. 


All  rights  reserved 


DONNA   DIANA 


CHAPTEE  I 

IT  was  ten  minutes  to  twelve  on  the  last  night  of  the  year 
1900. 

Fleecy  clouds,  now  gray,,  now  edged  with  brightest  silver, 
drifted  across  a  sky  of  deepest  violet  colour,  and  above 
them,  calm,  cold,  indifferent,  rode  the  winter  moon. 

The  piazza  of  the  Capitol  was  wellnigh  deserted.  A 
couple  of  policemen  paced  up  and  down  in  front  of  the 
Capitoline  Museums.  They  had  sauntered  up  to  two  indi- 
viduals, the  only  other  occupants  of  the  silent  square, 
and  had  separated  again,  murmuring  '  Forestieri ! ?  to 
each  other,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

Eome  was  burying  another  century. 

Some  of  her  people  were  thronging  the  basilicas  in 
which  the  Te  Deum  was  being  sung,  where  the  altars  were 
ablaze  with  candles  and  the  air  fragrant  with  incense, 
dedicating  a  new  era  to  the  crucified  Christ.  Others  were 
crowding  the  restaurants  and  the  wine-shops,  sacrificing 
to  human  nature,  or  eating,  drinking,  and  making  merry 
in  their  own  homes  surrounded  by  their  families  and 
intimates. 

From  below,  away  beyond  the  little  piazza  of  the  Ara 
Cceli,  rose  the  confused  hum  of  the  town,  the  rattle  of 
wheels,  the  distant  rumble  of  electric  trams,  and  the  cries 
of  the  sellers  of  hot  cakes  and  roasted  chestnuts. 

But  in  the  shadow  of  the  Capitol  it  was  very  quiet. 

The  great  Emperor  looked  down  from  his  horse  upon 

1 

434872 


2  LOKNA   DIANA 

*    ,  i    .    . .   ,    .   ,     .    .       i 

c  i    «   <  4  e   J 

the1 'restless  "city,  and  the  white  moonlight,  falling  upon 
his  stately  figure,  glanced  upon  the  scattered  patches  of 
gold  yet  adhering  to  the  bronze. 

The  couple  which  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
guardie  stood  beneath  the  statue  gazing  up  at  it. 

'  How  indifferent  he  is ! '  exclaimed  the  elder  of  the 
two  men. 

He  spoke  in  low  tones,  as  though  fearful  of  disturbing 
the  stillness,  and  then  he  looked  round  the  piazza 
curiously. 

'  It  was  good  to  come  here  on  this  night/  he  added.  e  I 
am  glad  we  came,  Lino.  But  there  is  something  terrible 
about  it,  something  oppressive.  I  feel  Rome.  It  grips 
one/ 

His  companion  glanced  at  him. 

'You  would  have  gone  to  St.  Peter's  if  I  had  let  you 
alone/  he  said. 

*  Yes,  I  should  have  gone  to  St.  Peter's.' 

Don  Michelangelo's  eyes  flashed  in  the  moonlight.  They 
were  typical  Roman  eyes,  large  and  soft,  and  the  dusky 
violet  of  the  night  sky  seemed  to  be  reflected  in  them. 

'  I  should  have  gone  to  St.  Peter's/  repeated  the  other ; 
'but  it  is  better  here.' 

At  that  moment  the  great  bell  of  the  Capitol  began 
to  toll.  Michelangelo  Savelli  laid  his  hand  on  his  com- 
panion's arm. 

'Let  us  see  another  century  dawn  upon  the  Forum/ 
he  said;  and  the  two  young  men  crossed  the  piazza  and 
began  to  descend  the  narrow  passage  leading  from  the 
Capitoline  Hill. 

At  the  top  of  the  flight  of  steps  they  stopped  and  leaned 
over  the  low  parapet.  There  was  a  pause  in  the  procession 
of  clouds  overhead,  and  the  Forum  beneath  lay  bathed 
in  soft,  silvery  light,  a  vista  of  broken  columns  and  shat- 
tered temples  that  stretched  away  to  the  Colosseum  just 
discernible  through  the  luminous  haze.  To  the  right 
loomed  the  sombre  mass  of  the  Palatine,  cypress-crowned, 
and  between  the  sullen  strokes  of  the  great  bell  booming 


DONNA   DIANA  3 

above  the  mournful  cries  of  owls  flitting  through  the 
halls  of  the  Caesars  fell  upon  the  ears  of  the  two  men  as 
they  stood  in  silence  looking  on  the  scene  at  their  feet. 
Suddenly  the  bell  ceased.  The  clock  above  them  struck 
the  hour,  and  then  the  air  resounded  with  the  clangour 
and  clash  of  the  church  bells  of  Christian  Eome  saluting 
the  advent  of  another  Christian  century,  while  the  deeper 
tones  of  the  bell  of  the  Capitol,  tolling  no  longer,  but 
ringing  out  with  quickly-repeated  strokes,  seemed  to  domi- 
nate the  rest  with  a  note  of  warning. 

And  the  ruins  of  Imperial  Eome,  the  sanctuaries  of 
forgotten  gods,  slept  in  the  moonlight,  careless  that  men 
yonder  in  the  modern  city  were  dedicating  a  new  age  to 
a  new  deity. 

'  Buon  secolo,  Eddie ! ' 

The  elder  of  the  two  midnight  pilgrims  to  the  Capitol 
started.  His  thoughts  had  been  travelling  far  back  in 
the  past,  or  far  onward  into  the  future — he  scarcely  knew 
which. 

He  smiled  a  little  at  the  mixture  of  Italian  and  English 
words,  and  then  grasped  his  friend's  outstretched  hand. 

'  A  happy  New  Year,  Lino/  he  answered  in  his  native 
English  tongue.  '  Many  happy  New  Years — though  it 
would  not  be  of  much  use  wishing  you  a  century  of  them, 
as  you  did  to  me  just  now;  but  I  am  much  obliged,  all 
the  same/ 

Michelangelo  Savelli,  known  to  his  intimates  as  Lino, 
gave  an  impatient  sigh. 

'  That  is  the  pity  of  it/  he  replied,  relapsing  into  Eng- 
lish, which  language  he  spoke  easily  and  correctly,  with 
a  slight  accent  that  lent  a  peculiar  charm  to  his  intona- 
tion. 'How  can  any  year  be  happy  when  each  brings  a 
man  nearer  to  his  last?' 

Edmund  laughed  gently. 

'  My  dear  Lino/  he  replied,  '  you  are  young  enough  not 
to  mind  the  years  passing.' 

'  But  I  do  mind — I  hate  it !  It  is  unfair.  Just  as  one 
is  learning  something  of  life — pouf ! — there  is  an  end ! ' 


4  DONNA   DIANA 

(  Or  a  beginning ! ' 

The  young  Eoman  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  Who  knows ! ?  he  said  briefly.  '  At  any  rate/  he  added, 
'  there  is  an  end  of  this  world !  And  I  like  this  world, 
Eddie;  it  is  quite  good  enough  for  me.  It  is  quite  good 
enough  for  most  people,  if  it  comes  to  that.  Everybody 
says,  "  Adveniat  regnum  tuum  " ;  but  when  they  think  it 
is  really  coming  it  is  another  matter  altogether!  Why, 
in  the  earthquake  the  other  day,  even  the  Pope ' 

Vane  interrupted  him. 

'  Never  mind  the  Pope/  he  said ; '  he  is  a  little  out  of  the 
picture  here  to-night.  Come,  Lino,  it  is  chilly.  Let  us 
get  back  into  the  present.  What  do  you  say?  Shall  we 
go  to  Aragno's  on  our  way  home  and  have  some  coffee  to 
warm  us  ? ' 

Lino  Savelli  hesitated  a  moment. 

'  I  think  I  must  go  to  Palazzo  San  Rocco/  he  said. 
(  They  have  gone  to  Mass,  and  were  to  return  to  supper. 
I  promised  I  would  come  in.  Why  not  accompany  me, 
Eddie  ?' 

Edmund  Vane  shook  his  head. 

*  I  am  not  intimate  enough  with  the  Princess/  he 
answered,  'to  pay  her  a  visit  unasked  at  this  hour.  Be- 
sides, I  am  not  dressed  for  the  purpose/ 

'That  is  nonsense.  I  am  not  dressed,  either,  and  no- 
body will  be  in  evening  clothes.  As  for  not  being  intimate 
enough  with  my  aunt,  San  Eocco — why,  you  are  intimate 
enough  with  me,  and  I  take  you.  She  will  be  delighted. 
Of  course  you  must  come ! '  And  Lino  took  his  friend's 
arm  and  turned  down  a  narrow  by-street  leading  in  the 
direction  of  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 

'  You  always  manage  to  get  your  own  way,  so  I  suppose 
I  must  come  with  you/  said  Vane,  laughing. 

'  Oh,  ma  questo  e  bello ! '  exclaimed  Lino,  bursting  forth 
into  Italian.  ( I  always  get  my  own  way,  do  I  ?  I  did  not 
know  it.  In  fact,  you  are  quite  wrong.  Perhaps  in  a  new 
century  things  will  be  different.  But  up  to  now — '  And 
a  quick,  significant  gesture  completed  his  sentence. 


DONNA    DIANA  5 

They  passed  from  the  dark  side-streets  into  the  Corso 
Vittorio  Emanuele,  brilliant  with  electric  light,  and 
thronged  by  crowds  returning  from  the  churches  and  par- 
ties of  noisy  revellers  on  their  way  from  one  osteria  to 
another. 

The  contrast  with  the  scene  they  had  just  left  was  as 
unpleasing  to  Lino  Savelli,  Eoman  though  he  was,  as  .to 
his  English  friend.  They  hurried  across  the  broad  thor- 
oughfare and  plunged  once  more  into  the  comparative 
quiet  of  the  Via  dei  Cestari,  which  street  would  lead  them 
almost  directly  into  the  quarter  where  the  Palazzo  San 
Eocco  was  situated. 

The  friendship  between  Edmund  Vane  and  Michel- 
angelo Savelli  had  been  of  some  five  years'  standing.  It 
had  begun  under  circumstances  painful  enough,  but  cal- 
culated to  bring  to  the  surface  the  best  qualities  of  both 
young  men.  Lino  Savelli,  indeed,  when  Edmund  Vane 
first  saw  him,  was  little  more  than  a  boy.  Vane  remem- 
bered well  their  first  meeting.  He  was  returning  from 
a  shooting  expedition  in  Somaliland,  and  he  and  his 
caravan  had  been  obliged  to  cross  Abyssinian  territory. 
In  the  course  of  his  eight  months'  travelling  in  search 
of  big  game  the  war  between  Italy  and  Abyssinia  had 
broken  out.  The  terrible  drama  of  Adowa  had  been  en- 
acted. Miscalculation  at  home  of  the  enemy's  strength 
and  insufficient  organization  at  the  front  had  borne  their 
inevitable  results. 

The  silent  heroism  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  Italian 
troops,  and  the  gallantry  of  the  majority  of  their  officers, 
had  passed  almost  unnoticed  amidst  the  wrangling  of  po- 
litical parties  in  Montecitorio  and  the  recriminations  of 
the  Italian  press. 

Edmund  Vane  recollected,  as  though  it  had  been  yester- 
day, the  halt  on  Abyssinian  ground  and  the  encampment 
near  a  spot  where  fresh  and  pure  water  was  to  be  found. 
It  was  September,  and  the  first  rains  had  fallen  after  the 
long,  hot  summer. 

He  remembered,  too,  how,  when  they  were  preparing  to 


6  DONNA   DIANA 

.strike  their  camp  and  continue  their  march,  the  head 
Somali  guide  had  come  to  him  with  the  information  that 
a  white  man  was  lying  ill  in  a  hut  some  half  a  mile  away ; 
how  he  was  being  tended  by  an  old  Copt,  who  could  not 
understand  a  word  the  sick  man  said.  Vane  recollected 
how,  led  by  the  guide,  he  reached  the  hut,  and  how,  stoop- 
ing down,  he  had  entered  the  evil-smelling  place.  He  re- 
membered that,  and  how  the  flies  buzzed. 

Stretched  on  some  skins  there  lay  a  black,  inert  mass; 
and  when  he  bent  over  and  touched  this  mass,  the  black- 
ness seemed  to  fly  up  in  his  face,  settle  again,  and  buzz 
angrily.  And  then  he  had  raised  the  white  cloth  that  the 
old  Copt  had  striven  to  keep  over  the  sick  man's  face,  and 
had  seen  the  flies  glue  themselves  to  the  quivering  eye- 
lids, to  the  parted  lips  and  drawn  nostrils;  and  he  had 
looked  away  with  a  shudder  of  disgust,  of  which  the  next 
instant  he  had  felt  ashamed. 

Very  tenderly  he  removed  the  loathsome  insects,  which 
seemed  to  struggle  and  fight  to  return  to  their  prey. 
Then  the  dark-blue  eyes  had  opened  and  looked  at  Edmund 
Vane  wearily,  and  a  few  incoherent  words  in  Italian  came 
from  the  parched  lips.  It  was  a  delicate,  high-bred  face 
he  looked  upon,  and,  wasted  though  it  was  by  pain  and 
fever,  a  singularly  attractive  one.  A  glance  at  a  military 
tunic  lying  on  the  floor  of  the  hut  showed  that  the  boy 
was  an  officer  of  the  Italian  cavalry. 

That  day  Vane  moved  him  to  the  camp,  and  by  easy 
stages  they  bore  him  to  the  coast.  The  remainder  of  the 
party  continued  their  homeward  journey,  but  Vane  had 
insisted  on  remaining  with  the  lad.  None  but  he  could 
speak  or  understand  Italian,  and  for  six  long  weeks  he 
nursed  Lino  Savelli,  until  the  fever  left  him  and  strength 
returned. 

Michelangelo  Savelli  had  been  one  of  the  prisoners 
taken  on  the  fatal  day  of  Adowa  nearly  seven  months 
before,  and  had  been  eventually  drafted,  together  with 
some  scores  of  fellow-captives,  to  the  camp  of  one  of  the 
great  Ras,  whence  he  had  at  last  succeeded  in  making 


DONNA   DIANA  7 

his  escape.  Exposure,  fatigue,  and  hunger  had  brought  on 
enteric  fever.  Utterly  exhausted,  he  had  lain  himself 
down  to  die,  with  the  terrible  fear  lest  his  body  might  be 
found  by  Abyssinians  and  mutilated — as  he  had  seen  the 
corpses  of  others  of  his  countrymen  mutilated.  Luckily 
for  him,  the  old  Coptic  Christian  had  found  him,  and  had 
compassion  on  him,  concealing  him  from  his  more  savage 
brethren  who  likewise  professed  the  name  of  Christ. 

The  cheerful  patience  and  pluck  shown  by  the  young 
Eoman  throughout  his  illness  made  a  great  impression 
upon  his  English  rescuer,  as  well  as  his  peculiar  charm 
of  manner  and  good  looks. 

On  Lino  Savelli's  side  was  gratitude  profound  and  warm 
to  Edmund  Vane  for  having  refused  to  leave  him  to  die 
among  strangers,  and  it  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  if  a 
strong  attachment  had  grown  up  between  the  two. 

'  You  have  saved  my  life/  Lino  had  said  to  him  simply, 
when  he  became  strong  enough  to  think,  and  to  realize 
all  that  Vane  had  done  for  him ;  '  I  shall  never  forget  it — • 
never.  I  know  you  English  think  we  are  capricious  and 
treacherous — I  have  read  it  in  your  books.  Perhaps  we 
are — some  of  us — but  not  we  Eomans  of  the  old  Eoman 
blood.  Some  day,  perhaps,  I  will  repay  you  my  debt.' 

And  Edmund  Vane  had  told  him  to  lie  still,  and  not 
to  talk  nonsense — or,  as  he  expressed  it,  rot. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  Palazzo  San  Rocco  lay  in  the  quarter  of  the  city 
known  as  the  Campo  Marzio. 

Edmund  Vane  had  often  been  into  it  on  afternoons 
when  the  Princess  di  San  Rocco  received,  and  had  occa- 
sionally attended  one  of  the  formal  evening  parties  she 
was  in  the  habit  of  giving  at  rare  intervals  in  the  course 
of  the  winter  and  spring.  This,  however,  did  not  imply 
any  special  degree  of  intimacy,  and  certainly  not  such  as 
to  warrant  intrusion  into  the  midst  of  a  family  festival 
on  New  Year's  Night. 

But  Lino  would  listen  to  no  objections,  and  Vane  knew 
that,  as  so  close  a  friend  of  her  nephew,  the  Princess  would 
not  be  likely  to  make  him  feel  an  unwelcome  guest. 
Moreover,  Casa  San  Rocco  interested  him,  and  he  was 
by  no  means  sorry  to  have  an  opportunity  of  catching 
a  glimpse,  however  passing,  of  the  family  life  of  its 
members. 

A  walk  of  five  minutes  or  so  beyond  the  Pantheon 
brought  the  two  to  the  house.  The  great  doors  leading 
into  the  court-yard  were  closed,  and  Lino  Savelli  gave 
them  three  sharp  blows  with  the  heavy  iron  knocker.  The 
sound  reverberated  through  the  silent  square,  and  re- 
echoed in  the  quadrangle  of  the  palace.  Presently  a  small 
panel  in  the  centre  of  the  door  slid  back,  disclosing  a  grat- 
ing whence  a  pair  of  eyes  peered  suspiciously,  while  their 
owner  delivered  himself  imperiously  of  the  usual  Roman 
challenge— '  Chi  e?' 

In  the  same  instant,  however,  recognising  Lino,  the 
porter  threw  open  one  of  the  doors. 

*  They  have  returned  from  church  ? '  Lino  asked  of  him. 

'  Si,  signorino,  they  have  returned,  a  quarter  of  an  hour 

8 


DONNA   DIANA  9 

ago.     That  is  why  I  had  closed  the  gates.     I  wish  their 
Excellencies  a  good  year/ 

6  Buon  anno,  Antonio/  replied  Lino,  at  the  same  time 
slipping  a  few  francs  into  the  porter's  hand — '  and  buon 
secolo ! 9 

The  old  man  shuffled  into  his  lodge,  where  he  blew  up  a 
speaking-tube.  He  had  known  Lino  Savelli  since  the  latter 
was  a  baby. 

'  Ma  che  secolo ! 7  he  grumbled  as  he  listened  for  the 
answering  whistle ;  1 1  shall  be  lucky  if  I  see  a  year  of  it. 
The  remainder  will  be  passed  quietly  enough  at  San  Lo- 
renzo. If  their  Excellencies  will  go  upstairs/  he  added, 
as  the  windows  on  the  first  floor  of  the  court-yard,  hitherto 
in  darkness,  were  suddenly  illumined  by  a  glow  of  electric 
light. 

A  servant  stood  at  an  open  door  on  the  landing  of  the 
great  staircase  waiting  to  receive  them.  From  him  they 
learned  that  the  Princess  and  the  rest  of  the  family  were 
at  supper,  and  they  followed  the  man  to  the  dining-room. 

There  were  about  a  dozen  people  standing  round  a  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  Edmund  Vane  saw  that 
it  was,  as  he  had  anticipated,  purely  a  family  gathering. 

Princess  San  Eocco  cut  short  his  apologies  for  his  in- 
trusion with  a  few  words  of  welcome  that  quickly  relieved 
him  from  all  embarrassment. 

f  Of  course  Lino  brought  you/  she  said  with  a  smile, 
speaking  in  French.  ( He  did  quite  rightly.  And  you 
proposed  to  go  to  Aragno  for  your  coffee — on  New  Year's 
Night,  too!  Fabrizio/  she  added,  turning  to  her  hus- 
band, '  did  you  ever  hear  of  such  an  idea  ? ' 

'  I  have  heard  of  such  an  idea,  certainly,  Maria/ 'replied 
the  Prince ;  i  but  in  this  case  it  was  not  at  all  a  necessary 
idea — not  at  all,  I  can  assure  Mr.  Vane.' 

Edmund  Vane  bowed.    The  Principe  di  San  Rocco  was 
a  heavy,  matter-of-fact  man,   depressed  in  manner  and 
expression  and  somewhat  corpulent  of  figure,  but  cour- ; 
teous  withal,  and  of  a  certain  dignity  of  bearing. 

In  the  meantime  Vane  was  offering  his  good  wishes  to 


10  DONNA   DIANA 

the  daughters  of  the  house  with  whom  he  was  already 
acquainted,  and  the  Princess  introduced  him  to  the  re- 
mainder of  the  party,  including  a  middle-aged  German 
lady,  at  once  governess,  dame  de  compagnie,  and  watch- 
dog in  Casa  San  Eocco. 

On  the  supper-table  were  plates  full  of  sandwiches  and 
bonbons,  a  few  bottles  of  champagne,  and  red  wine  from 
the  San  Eocco  vineyards.  The  Princess  made  room  for 
her  foreign  guest  to  stand  beside  her,  and  his  glass  was 
filled  with  champagne.  It  was  sweet  champagne,  of  a 
rich  pink  in  colour,  and  Edmund,  as  he  wished  his  hostess 
a  good  year  and  emptied  the  glass,  thought  with  distinct 
regret  of  the  cup  of  black  coffee  he  had  proposed  to  drink 
at  Aragno's. 

As  to  the  Princess,  she  supped  off  sandwiches  and  mar- 
j-ons  glaces,  eating  them  alternatively,  with  a  fine  dis- 
regard for  the  digestion. 

After  a  few  minutes  Vane  was  able  to  observe  his  sur- 
roundings at  greater  leisure.  His  attention  was  arrested 
by  the  face  of  a  young  girl  whom  he  had  not  before  noticed, 
and  to  whom  he  had  certainly  not  been  presented.  She 
was  laughing  and  talking  with  Lino  Savelli,  and  formed 
the  centre  of  a  little  group  of  the  younger  members  of  the 
party,  who  had  withdrawn  themselve's  from  the  supper- 
table  to  the  further  end  of  the  room. 

Her  beauty  was  so  striking  that  almost  involuntarily 
Vane's  wandering  glances  returned  to  fix  themselves 
upon  it. 

It  did  not  surprise  him  that  he  had  not  been  introduced 
to  her.  It  was  evident  that  she  was  scarcely  more  than 
seventeen,  and  he  knew  how  rigid  were  the  rules  of  eti- 
quette by  which  young  girls  are  fenced  and  hedged  about 
in  Eoman  society;  nevertheless,  he  would  have  liked  to 
know  who  she  was. 

The  two  daughters  of  the  house  he  knew  well  enough, 
for  he  had  repeatedly  met  them  at  balls  and  evening  par- 
ties, at  which  they  followed  the  Princess  about  the  rooms 
—very  types  of  propriety,  with  an  occasional  expression 


DONNA   DIANA  11 

on  their  faces  suggesting  some  impatience  at  being  obliged 
to  keep  up  appearances  as  jeunes  filles.  He  saw  them, 
too,,  on  most  afternoons,  driving  with  their  mother  in  the 
San  Eocco  family  carriage,  with  its  handsome  horses  and 
coachman  and  footman  in  gorgeous  though  ill-fitting  liv- 
eries, looking  listlessly  in  front  of  them  as  the  high  ba- 
rouche rumbled  down  the  Corso  or  round  the  Villa  Bor- 
ghese.  But  he  had  certainly  never  seen  this  girl  with  the 
small,  graceful  head  of  a  Greek  goddess;  with  the  large, 
soft  brown  eyes  that  reminded  him  of  those  of  a  fawn; 
with  the  warm,  rich  colouring  of  a  youthful  Bacchus. 

He  had  heard  much  of  the  beauty  of  Italian  women  be- 
fore he  came  to  Italy,  and,  like  most  foreigners,  had  been 
considerably  disappointed  at  finding  comparatively  little 
of  it  among  the  women  of  the  upper  class,  especially  in 
Eome.  Though  in  the  streets  beauty  in  both  sexes  was 
common  enough,  in  the  Eoman  drawing-rooms  he  had 
found  it  somewhat  of  a  rarity. 

But  here  was  beauty  indeed — beauty  that  was  just 
emerging  from  its  childish  phase  into  the  first  bloom  of 
womanhood. 

The  sound  of  Princess  San  Eocco's  voice  recalled  Vane 
to  a  sense  of  the  proprieties.  A  latent  fear  lest  he  might 
have  offended  against  them  was  not  entirely  dispelled  by 
his  hostess's  remark. 

It  was  evident  that  she  had  observed  his  distraction, 
and  had  followed  the  direction  of  his  too  frequent  glances. 
Possibly,  also,  she  read  the  look  of  inquiry  in  his  eyes. 

'  Our  young  people  are  amusing  themselves/  she  said, 
as  the  sound  of  crackers  being  pulled  came  from  the  little 
group  at  the  end  of  the  dining-room;  and  then  she  added, 
as  Vane  thought  somewhat  constrainedly :  '  That  is  my 
niece,  Diana  Savelli.  She  is  a  handsome  child,  is  she 
not?' 

'  Handsome,  Princess !  She  is  beautiful ! '  replied 
Edmund. 

The  Princess  looked  at  him  a  little  scrutinizingly. 

c  A  mere  child/  she  said  rather  coldly.     '  She  is  at  the 


12  DONNA   DIANA 

Sacre  Cceur,  and  occasionally  is  permitted  to  come  to  us 
on  some  great  festival/ 

'But  not  a  sister  of  Lino's?'  hazarded  her  guest. 

e  A  cousin.  The  daughter  of  a  brother  of  mine  who  died 
long  ago/  answered  Princess  San  Eocco. 

'  She  will  be  a  very  beautiful  woman/  said  Vane. 

Again  he  became  conscious  of  the  Princess's  eyes  rest- 
ing upon  him  questioningly,  and  he  noticed  that  her  tone 
was  colder  than  ever  as,  after  a  slight  pause,  she  replied: 

*  Possibly,  monsieur.  But  the  world  will  not  see  much 
of  the  beauty  that  you  are  kind  enough  to  say  you  find  in 
her.  Such  as  it  is,  it  is  dedicated  to  God.' 

Edmund  Vane  experienced  a  sudden  feeling  of  revul- 
sion and  pity.  A  Eoman  Catholic  himself,  the  Princess's 
words,  and  all  that  they  implied,  should  not  have  surprised 
him  so  much.  He  was  vaguely  conscious  of  this,  and  won- 
dered at  the  sense  of  anger  which  had  possessed  him  as  he 
listened  to  them. 

At  that  moment  a  merry  peal  of  laughter,  light  and 
joyous  as  the  note  of  a  bird,  reached  him,  and  he  saw 
Donna  Diana  Savelli  snatch  the  motto  of  a  cracker  from 
one  of  her  cousins  and  hold  it  high  above  her  head. 

The  Princess  smiled. 

'  The  child  is  full  of  spirits/  she  observed,  '  but  she  has 
the  vocation.  It  is  wonderful.  To  look  at  her,  you  would 
not  think  that  she  had  fixed  her  heart  upon  entering 
religion.  But  you,  Monsieur  Vane,  as  a  Catholic,  know 
that  these  things  are  beyond  our  powers  to  reason  upon.' 

Princess  San  Rocco  paused,  and  looked  at  Vane  as 
though  expecting  him  to  reply.  The  words,  however,  that 
rose  to  his  lips  were  such  as  could  not  be  spoken.  He  felt 
that  he  had  already  been  guilty  of  an  indiscretion  in  mak- 
ing any  remark  concerning  a  member  of  Princess  San 
Rocco's  family  to  whom  she  had  not  presented  him. 
Further  comment  could  not  but  be  taken  as  a  liberty. 

The  Princess  was  right.  He  was  a  Catholic,  and  as  a 
Catholic  it  was  not  for  him  to  question  a  vocation  to  a 
religious  life.  Moreover,  Edmund  Vane  was  perfectly  well 


DONNA    DIANA  13 

aware  that,  had  Donna  Diana  not  been  so  bewilderingly 
beautiful,  he  would  have  been  quite  indifferent  as  to 
whether  or  not  she  had  such  a  vocation. 

He  had  been  brought  up  to  regard  conventual  life  as  the 
highest  of  all  callings.  In  later  years  he  had  come  to  look 
upon  it  rather  in  the  light  of  a  safety-valve  for  superfluous 
piety — a  piety  which  might  prove  embarrassing,  or  even 
irritating,  when  pent  up  within  the  family  circle. 

This  latter  attitude  was  probably  due  to  the  fact  that 
he  had  an  elder  sister  who,  having  quarrelled  with  an 
earthly  fiance  in  the  days  of  her  engagement,  had  turned 
for  consolation  to  a  spiritual  bridegroom  possessed  of  the 
golden  gift  of  silence.  But  that  this  young  human 
creature,  full  of  life,  yet  without  the  knowledge  of  its 
joys,  unconscious  of  the  power  of  her  beauty,  should  be 
condemned  or  condemn  herself  to  the  living  death  of  the 
cloister  was  surely  a  monstrous  thing — a  spurning  of  God's 
gift  of  humanity. 

It  was  with  a  sense  of  relief  that  Vane  saw  Lino  Savelli 
separate  himself  from  his  cousins  and  approach  him. 

He  longed  now  to  get  away  from  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco 
and  back  to  his  own  apartment  in  the  modern  quarter  of 
Rome — an  apartment  he  had  sub-rented  from  a  wealthy 
American  widow,  the  owner  of  a  pronounced  twang,  a 
reverential  spirit  towards  even  the  most  spurious  of  Roman 
titles,  and  a  pearl  necklace,  to  which  and  to  her  cook  she 
owed  much  of  her  social  success  in  the  Eternal  City. 

After  a  few  more  minutes  passed  in  conversation  Vane 
bade  the  Prince  and  Princess  good-night.  Lino  also  took 
his  leave,  and  accompanied  his  friend  down  the  gloomy 
staircase. 

Their  way  lay  together,  as  Lino  also  inhabited  the  higher 
quarter  of  the  town.  Lighting  their  cigars,  they  walked 
through  the  network  of  narrow  streets  between  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  and  the  Corso  and  crossed  the  Piazza  Colonna, 
still  crowded  with  loiterers  and  noisy  with  the  tongues  of 
many  nations. 

'  What  a  beautiful  girl  your  cousin  is,  Lino ! ?  said  Vane 


14  DONNA   DIANA 

suddenly,  when  they  had  gained  the  comparative  quiet  of 
the  Via  Tritone. 

'  Diana,  I  suppose  you  mean  ?  Yes,  she  is  beautiful ! ' 
responded  Lino  briefly.  '  It  is  a  great  waste/  he  added, 
stopping  to  relight  his  cigar. 

'  A  great  waste— surely  not ! 9 

'  Surely  yes,  Eddie !  No  man  will  be  the  better  for  it 
— neither  will  she  herself,  poor  child ! ' 

Vane  kept  silence.  He  rather  wished  to  learn  Lino's 
views  on  his  cousin's  destiny,  and  did  not  think  it  neces- 
sary to  tell  him  what  he  had  gathered  from  the  Princess. 

'  They  keep  her  in  the  Sacre  Coeur,'  he  continued— '  you 
know,  at  the  Trinita  dei  Monti — and  when  she  leaves  it 
she  is  going  to  be  a  nun.  We  are  a  strange  race,  we 
Latins ! ' 

'  I  have  a  sister  who  is  a  nun,'  observed  Vane ;  '  but  she 
is  not  like  Donna  Diana,'  he  added,  with  a  little  smile. 
'  The  Church  is  the  same  in  all  countries ;  it  must  have 
its  devotees.' 

'And  its  victims,'  rejoined  Lino. 

Edmund  looked  at  him  quickly.  He  knew  that  this 
young  Roman,  born  of  a  family  attached  to  the  traditions 
of  Papal  Eome,  the  nephew  of  a  Cardinal,  was  practically 
an  unbeliever  in  the  claims  of  the  Church  to  which  he 
nominally  belonged.  That  such  a  thing  should  be  had  per- 
plexed, and  even  pained,  him  when  he  had  first  come  to 
Rome.  In  the  early  days  of  his  friendship  with  Lino 
these  subjects  had  never  been  mentioned  between  them. 
It  was  only  when  their  friendship  had  become  closer  and 
more  intimate  that  he  had  realized  the  tranquil  indiffer- 
ence towards  the  dogmatic  religion  of  his  country  which 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  Lino  Savelli's  nature. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  Rome,  however,  before  discov- 
ering that  Lino,  except  in  the  honesty  of  his  scepticism, 
was  no  great  exception  to  a  very  large  number  of  men  of 
all  ages  and  of  all  classes.  Edmund  Vane  was  forced  to 
admit,  moreover,  when  he  thought  about  the  matter  at  all, 
that  his  own  faith  was  his  rather  by  accident  of  heredity 


DONNA   DIANA  15 

than  by  exercise  of  reason,  nor  had  he  ever  particularly 
wished  that  it  should  be  otherwise — a  comfortable  frame 
of  mind,  encouraged  by  the  creeds  of  all  the  ages. 

Lino's  remark  fell  unpleasantly  on  Vane's  ear,  and  the 
feelings  of  mingled  pity  and  indignation,  of  which  as  a 
Catholic  he  was  conscious  of  being  a  little  ashamed,  stirred 
again  within  him,  as  they  had  stirred  when  he  learned  the 
destiny  of  Donna  Diana  Savelli  from  her  aunt's  lips. 

'  A  victim ! '  he  repeated.  ( But  that  sounds  horrible, 
Lino — horrible,  and  incredible  also!  We  are  not  in  the 
Middle  Ages/ 

c  How  do  you  know  ? '  asked  his  companion  briefly. 

Vane  looked  a  little  taken  back,  and  then  he  laughed. 

'  Oh,  well/  he  replied,  '  if  we  were,  you  would  not  be 
smoking- a  cigar,  in  the  first  instance;  and,  in  the  next, 
you  would  probably  be  reflecting  on  your  heresies  in  the 
Castle  of  Sant'  Angelo/ 

'Rome  is  so  old,  so  very  old/  said  Lino  Savelli  medita- 
tively. 

e  A  tolerably  well-worn  platitude,  almost  worthy  of  that 
Imperial  utterer  of  platitudes,  Marcus  Aurelius,  but  not 
particularly  apropos/ 

'  You  think  not  ?  but  I  tell  you  that  in  Eome  we  are  still 
in  the  Middle  Ages — we  have  never  got  out  of  them,  if, 
indeed,  we  have  reached  them.  That  is  what  foreigners 
will  never  understand.  They  come  here  and  judge  us — 
from  the  outside.  They  even  take  furnished  apartments 
for  a  few  months  in  order  to  write  books  about  us/ 

Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  stopped  short  in  the  middle 
of  the  pavement,  as  every  Eoman  must  do  when  he  wishes 
to  emphasize  an  argument  in  the  open  street.  In  the  semi- 
deserted  Via  Tritone,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the 
obstruction  to  the  foot-traffic  was  not  great ;  but  he  would 
equally  have  stopped  on  the  narrow  pavement  of  the  Corso 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

( I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Eddie/  he  continued  impetuously. 
( There  never  will  be  a  true  book  written  about  Rome  until 
the  writer  takes  the  soul  out  of  a  human  body^  and  lays  it 


16  DONNA    DIANA 

bare  and  dissects  it,  as  the  doctors  take  a  corpse  and  stretch 
it  on  the  table  of  the  dissecting-room,  and  open  it  out 
for  the  world  to  see  its  disease.' 

'Your  simile  is  rather  brutal/  observed  Vane  with  a 
smile. 

1  Perhaps,  but  it  is  true.  Men  come  here,  and  they  look 
at  the  external  body  of  Kome,  and  moralize  over  it  accord- 
ing to  their  individual  temperaments.  You  are  all  alike, 
you  foreigners.  The  Germans  take  Eome  sentimentally, 
between  their  "  bocks  "  at  the  beer-shop  in  the  Via  San 
Giuseppe;  you  English  attempt  to  turn  it  into  a  Holy 
City;  the  Americans,  as  the  gateway  leading,  not  into 
Paradise,  but  into  Society." 

'  And  you  Eomans — how  do  you  take  it  ? 9 

'  We  Eomans  ?  Well,  knowing  the  pitiful  humanity  of 
the  thing,  we  do  not  take  it  very  seriously.  You  see,  we 
are  accustomed  to  it.  There  is  no  novelty,  no  freshness, 
no  mystery,  for  us — nothing,  in  short,  to  sentimentalize 
about/ 

Vane  winced  a  little.  Eome  still  held  his  gods.  They 
walked  on  for  a  few  minutes  in  silence. 

'But  your  cousin,  Donna  Diana/  said  Edmund  at 
length.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  she  is  going  into  a  con- 
vent against  her  will  ?  ' 

Lino  Savelli  looked  at  him  with  some  surprise. 

'  Of  course  not/  he  replied.  ( It  is  her  ideal.  She  longs 
for  it,  as  some  girl  of  the  people,  who  has  been  told  that 
she  will  please  the  public,  longs  to  go  on  the  stage/ 

He  spoke  seriously,  but  all  the  Eoman  love  of  irony 
which  Vane  had  learned  to  detect  lurked  in  his  words. 

'  Then,  why  did  you  use  the  expression  "  victim/'  if 
that  is  so  ? '  asked  the  latter. 

'Because  I  regard  her  as  a  victim — a  victim  to  sug- 
gestion/ 

'  You  cannot  mean  that,  Lino ! '  exclaimed  Vane. 

'But  I  do  mean  it.  Do  you  suppose  that  I  have  not 
done  all  I  could  to  reason  with  her,  with  my  aunt,  with 
all  of  them,  in  fact  ?  But  you  know  what  women  feel 


DONNA    DIANA  17 

about  such  things.  Eeligion  is  their  province;  we  men 
cannot  interfere  with  their  ideas  about  it.  Besides,  in 
Diana's  case  there  is  nobody  to  do  so.' 

'But,,  surely,  her  uncle ' 

'  My  uncle,  San  Eocco,  do  you  mean  ?  '  and  Lino  laughed 
a  little.  '  You  do  not  know  him,  or  you  would  never  think 
that  he  would  commit  himself  to  an  opinion  upon  the 
subject.  And  our  other  uncle,  Diana's  and  mine — well, 
he  is  neither  a  man  nor  a  woman ;  he  is  a  Cardinal ! ' 

They  had  arrived  at  the  Piazza  Barberini  by  this  time, 
and  here  Lino  Savelli  bade  his  friend  good-night  and 
turned  up  the  Via  Quattro  Fontane. 

Vane  lingered  a  little  while  in  the  piazza,  listening  to 
the  sound  of  the  fountain,  and  watching  the  drops  of 
water  sparkle  in  the  moonlight  as  they  fell  into  the  basin 
beneath.  It  was  his  second  year  in  Eome.  He  had  come 
the  year  before  partly  in  response  to  the  earnestly  ex- 
pressed wishes  of  Lino  that  he  should  do  so,  and  glad  to 
think  that  through  the  latter's  good  offices  he  would  have 
an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  the  real 
Eome,  and  not  merely  with  that  spurious  Eome  presented 
to  foreigners  through  the  medium  of  guides  and  hand- 
books, or,  more  deceptive  still,  through  the  tinted  spec- 
tacles of  the  Anglo-American  society  of  the  Italian 
capital. 

Possibly,  had  it  not  been  for  his  friendship  with  a 
Eoman  belonging  to  one  of  the  few  Eoman  houses  of  gen- 
uinely ancient  descent  in  a  city  in  which  high-sounding 
titles  not  infrequently  supply  the  place  of  pureness  of 
blood,  Vane  would  never  have  come  to  Eome  at  all. 

The  life  of  a  capital  did  not  particularly  appeal  to  him, 
and  he  had  heard  Eome  described  as  the  happy  hunting- 
ground  of  elderly  ladies  of  all  nationalities,  more  especially 
those  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  race. 

Thirty  years  of  age,  his  own  master,  and  possessed  of 
a  tolerably  good  income,  Edmund  Vane  had  been  able  to 
indulge  in  the  two  forms  of  amusement  most  congenial  to 
him,  namely,  travel  and  sport.  That  he  did  both  intelr 


18  DONNA   DIANA 

ligently  was  not  a  little  to  his  credit,  considering  the  train- 
ing of  his  earlier  years. 

Born  of  Catholic  parents,  he  had  as  a  boy  been  sur- 
rounded by  all  those  mental  and  spiritual  boundaries 
which  the  Church  of  Eome  is  ever  compelled  to  raise 
against  the  threatening  demons  of  reason  and  independ- 
ence of  thought.  Nor,  when  he  exchanged  the  strictly 
orthodox  if  somewhat  stagnant  life  of  an  old  Roman  Cath- 
olic family  in  England  for  the  schools  and  colleges  of 
his  co-religionists,  had  his  mental  horizon  been  greatly 
enlarged. 

The  boundaries  were  always  there — fixed,  inexorable; 
the  appeal  to  the  senses,  subtle,  intangible,  perpetual,  were 
ever  present  to  meet  each  incipient  development  of  the 
reason,  wrapping  it  round  and  moulding  its  youthful  plia- 
bility in  the  moulds  cast  in  the  workshops  of  such  masters 
as  Aquinas  and  Liguori. 

And  then  reason  had  slept — the  sleep  of  the  Lotos  that 
so  often  passes  into  death. 

Death  indeed  came,  but  physically,  and  that  to 
Edmund's  father.  At  one-and-twenty  Edmund  Vane 
found  himself  independent  in  the  world,  and,  as  not 
infrequently  happens  in  the  case  of  an  only  son,  with  no 
profession. 

To  travel  in  wild  countries  in  pursuit  of  big  game  had 
been  the  ideal  of  his  boyish  days.  If  books  had  been  but 
coldly  looked  upon  at  Silverside,  the  Vanes'  place  in  Lan- 
cashire, sport  had  never  been  interfered  with.  To  destroy 
life  has  never  been  deemed  so  dangerous  an  occupation  to 
the  soul  as  to  seek  to  understand  it;  and  Edmund  Vane, 
like  most  young  fellows  of  his  age  and  class,  destroyed  a 
good  deal. 

He  had  seen  many  men  and  many  countries  since  those 
youthful  days;  and  little  by  little,  almost  imperceptibly, 
the  old  boundaries  had  receded,  disclosing  fresh  ground 
on  which  as  yet  he  feared  to  tread. 

Sometimes  he  wondered  whether  this  fear  were  not  the 
result  of  a  weakness  in  the  system  in  which  his  mind  had 


DOOTA   DIANA  19 

received  its  training;  and  whether  he  should  not  have 
been  able  to  tread  boldly,  confident  in  his  strength. 

But  the  old  influences  retained  their  power.  The  ques- 
tions he  put  to  himself  sometimes  in  the  silence  of  night- 
watches  under  tropical  stars,  or  in  the  desert  places  of  the 
old,  wise  East — questions  which  he  would  have  liked  to 
ask  of  others — he  felt  had  been  answered  to  him  long  ago. 
The  answers  might  not  be  satisfactory — often  were  cer- 
tainly not  so;  but,  remembering  their  authority,  he  sighed 
and  let  them  pass.  And  so  he  had  drifted  to  Eome, 
whither  drift  so  many  of  those  who  question. 

He  had  come  the  first  time  with  an  almost  careless  cer- 
tainty that  at  Eome  doubts,  scarcely  definable  as  yet, 
would  be  dissipated;  that  problems  which  propounded 
themselves  in  far-off  places — among  men  of  other  creeds 
and  other  races — would  be  solved  in  this,  the  centre  of  in- 
fallible authority.  Nay,  that  solution  would  not  even  be 
required  when  these  problems  should  be  tested  by  the  light 
of  divinely-inspired  truth. 

But  that  first  year  in  Eome  had  solved  no  problems, 
dissipated  no  doubts.  On  the  contrary,  it  had  raised  up 
new  ones — questions  demanding  an  answer  with  a  certain 
imperiousness  at  which  Vane  wondered,  a  little  vexed  with 
himself  that  he  could  not,  here  in  the  centre  of  Catholi- 
cism, dismiss  them  from  his  mind  with  the  same  facility 
as,  when  they  became  too  persistent,  he  had  been  hitherto 
able  to  do. 

And,  having  once  come  to  Eome,  he  had  come  again — 
as  do  most  men.  An  intense  desire  had  taken  possession 
of  him  to  study  from  within  this  complex  thing:  half 
shrine,  half  bottega — half  metropolis,  half  little  cathedral 
town — this  magnet  which  for  well-nigh  thirty  centuries 
had  attracted  the  love  and  hate,  the  scorn  and  reverence, 
the  fear,  the  hope,  and  the  despair  of  mankind. 

As  he  had  said  to  Lino  Savelli  at  the  Capitol  that  night, 
Eome  gripped  him,  but  whether  with  a  spiritual  embrace 
he  hardly  knew. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  Countess  Verini  had  long  overcome  the  initial  diffi- 
culties attendant  upon  the  formation  of  a  reputation  for 
cleverness,  and  her  salon  at  Rome  was  a  recognised  institu- 
tion. On  Tuesday,  Friday,  and  Sunday  evenings  she  re- 
ceived in  her  apartment  near  the  Corso. 

The  female  element  was  not  so  largely  represented  in 
Casa  Verini.  Not  unnaturally,  perhaps,  its  mistress  did 
not  greatly  encourage  native  female  talent,  though  she  was 
ever  ready  and  eager  to  welcome  it  when  foreign  and  merely 
de  passage. 

The  consequence  was  that,  more  especially  on  Sunday 
nights,  a  dozen  to  twenty  men  were  usually  to  be  found  in 
the  Countess's  drawing-rooms  at  any  hour  from  ten  o'clock 
until  one  in  the  morning;  and  perhaps  two,  or  at  the  most 
three,  other  women  besides  herself. 

Edmund  Vane  had  met  Countess  Verini  on  several  occa- 
sions at  the  house  of  one  of  the  select  female  spirits  of  her 
intellectual  coterie,  and  also  at  various  dinners.  Learning 
that  he  was  of  a  family  well  known  in  England,  that  he 
had  travelled  a  good  deal,  and  also  that  he  had  a  good 
income,  she  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  he  might  be 
interesting,  and  had  told  him  she  would  be  pleased  to  see 
him  on  her  evenings.  Vane  had  availed  himself  at  rare 
intervals  of  her  invitation,  partly  because  it  was  only  civil 
to  do  so,  and  also  because,  from  all  he  had  heard  of  her,  he 
thought  her  house  might  prove  amusing. 

He  had,  as  usual,  applied  to  Lino  Savelli  for  information 
concerning  the  Countess  Verini's  surroundings.  The 
longer  he  lived  in  Rome  the  more  profoundly  thankful  he 
felt  at  having  a  guide  and  counsellor  who  could  enable  him 
to  avoid  the  pitfalls  that  lurk  in  the  path  of  those  walking 


DONNA   DIANA  21 

unwarily  through  the  narrow  ways  of  Eoman  society.  He 
had  realized  that  these  tracks  crossed  each  other  perpetually, 
in  the  most  unexpected  places,  and  that  in  some  of  them 
there  was  mud. 

(  Countess  Verini's  world  ? 9  Lino  had  replied,  with  a 
slight  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  '  well,  it  is — "  le  monde  ou 
Fon  s'ennuie."  Are  you  interested  in  schemes  ? ' 

'  Schemes  ?  '  asked  Edmund  vaguely. 

'  I  mean,  schemes  for  the  improvement  of  other  people's 
intellects/ 

'  Not  in  the  least.  I  have  enough  to  do  in  attempting 
to  improve  my  own.' 

'  Oh !  but  you  would  be  interested  in  them.  It  is  very 
amusing.  Perhaps,  if  you  make  yourself  unusually  agree- 
able, you  will  be  asked  to  join  a  course  of  lectures  on  Dante 
—that  is  to  say,  you  will  be  asked  to  join  in  the  payment 
of  the  lecturer.  You  will,  in  fact,  belong  to  a  body  of 
people  firmly  persuaded  that  they  have  discovered  Dante — 
and  some  other  comparatively  unknown  genius.' 

'  Oh,  I  see — souls ! ' 

e  Souls  ?  not  at  all  bodies — '  said  Lino  dryly. 

Vane  laughed.  (  They  used  to  be  called  "  souls  "  with 
us  a  few  years  ago,'  he  said. 

'  Yes,  it  is  much  the  same  thing,  I  suppose.' 

'  Well/  replied  Vane,  ( I  think  it  proved  to  be  so,  some- 
times.' 

True  to  his  determination  to  abandon  sight-seeing  during 
his  second  visit  to  Boom,  and  devote  himself,  however 
reluctantly,  to  the  society  of  the  place,  Edmund  Vane  had 
gone  several  times  to  the  Countess  Verini's  evenings  after 
this  little  conversation.  At  first  the  social  life  of  Eome 
had  bored  him  considerably.  He  had  confided  his  feelings 
to  an  elderly  French  diplomat,  well  acquainted  not  only 
with  the  Eoman  world,  but  with  many  others. 

'  Ah,  mon  cher,'  the  latter  had  said  to  him  frankly,  ( you 
find  Eoman  society  uninteresting?  well,  so  it  is — deadly 
uninteresting — to  those  who  do  not  create  an  interest  for 
themselves. 


22  DONNA   DIANA 

'You  must  be  in  love  with  somebody,  preferably  with 
somebody  else's  wife,  if  you  would  find  the  society  of  this 
town  amusing/ 

'But  I  am  not  in  love  with  anybody's  wife/  Vane 
objected. 

'And  what  does  that  matter?'  replied  Monsieur  de 
Villebois.  ( It  is  very  easy  to  pretend  that  you  are.  You 
have  only  to  fix  upon  the  lady,  and,  if  you  persevere,  you 
will  end  by  believing  that  you  are  in  love  with  her.  So 
will  her  husband  probably,  and  that  will  give  an  interest 
to  the  affair.  Believe  me,  it  is  an  excellent  thing.  It 
supplies — well,  just  the  necessary  amount  of  excitement 
to  a  life  which  is,  after  all,  somewhat  uneventful.  But 
whatever  you  do,  do  not  fall  in  love  in  the  Anglo-American 
world,  for,  if  you  do  so,  you  will  have  a  very  bad  time 
of  it.  The  old  ladies  will  dissect  you  and  your  fiancee 
with  their  tongues ! ' 

And  Vane  had  smiled  at  the  old  diplomat's  cynicism, 
while  he  mentally  compared  the  difference  between  the 
French  and  the  English  outlook  on  life.  Later  he  had 
come  to  feel  that  there  was  a  certain  amount  of  truth  in 
Monsieur  de  Villebois's  words,  when  allowance  had  been 
made  for  his  national  prejudices. 

Until  he  had  seen  Donna  Diana  Savelli,  Vane  had 
regarded  Eoman  society  as  a  part  of  Eome  that  he  could 
very  well  afford  to  observe  at  his  leisure.  Unlike  many 
foreigners,  he  had  nothing  to  gain  from  it;  his  position 
in  his  own  country  was  too  well  assured  for  that.  Gradu- 
ally, however,  he  had  become  aware  that  the  impressions 
he  had  received  on  first  beholding  Donna  Diana  at  the 
Palazzo  San  Eocco  had  increased  rather  than  diminished 
their  hold  upon  his  mind.  He  argued  that  it  was  absurd 
to  suppose  himself  to  be  in  love  with  a  person  whom  he 
had  seen  only  once,  and  with  whom  he  had  never  inter- 
changed a  word,  or  even  a  direct  look.  But  a  sense  of 
some  mystery  surrounding  this  beautiful  Eoman  girl 
destined  to  the  cloister  perpetually  suggested  itself  to  him. 
A  longing  to  unravel  this  mystery,  should  it  really  exist, 


DONNA   DIANA  23 

to  discover  what  psychological  power  was  at  work  in  Donna 
Diana,  strong  enough  to  silence  the  voices  of  Nature,  had 
little  by  little  taken  possession  of  him.  Some  instinct 
seemed  to  warn  him  that  the  sudden  impulse  of  indignation 
and  pity  he  had  experienced  on  learning  from  Princess 
San  Eocco  of  the  future  in  store  for  her  niece  was  not  a 
false  instinct. 

But  how  should  he  arrive  at  a  conclusion  that  could 
satisfy  him?  Donna  Diana  Savelli  was  inaccessible  to 
him.  Any  real  acquaintance  with  a  girl  brought  up  ac- 
cording to  the  traditions  of  an  old-fashioned  Eoman  house 
would  have  been  difficult  enough  for  a  young  man  to  form ; 
in  the  case  of  Donna  Diana,  just  concluding  her  education 
in  the  Sacre  Cceur,  and  already  vowed  to  a  religious  life, 
it  was  an  impossibility. 

Perhaps  the  very  hopelessness  of  satisfying  his  curiosity 
caused  the  latter  to  increase,  or  stirred  within  him  some- 
thing akin  to  the  spirit  of  chivalry. 

However  this  might  be,  the  fact  remained  that  Donna 
Diana's  face  and  form  haunted  him  with  an  almost  annoy- 
ing persistency;  and  more  than  once,  when  attempting 
to  draw  Lino  into  conversation  about  his  cousin,  Edmund 
had  felt  almost  angry  with  him  for  displaying  so  little 
surprise  that  at  eighteen  she  should  already  have  de- 
termined to  renounce  the  world. 

At  length  he  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  if  he 
desired  to  solve  a  problem  which,  rightly  or  wrongly,  he 
believed  to  exist,  he  could  only  do  so  by  mixing  freely  in 
the  society  of  which  Donna  Diana,  had  she  so  chosen, 
would  have  been  a  member. 

De  Villebois  was  right.  To  find  society  interesting 
it  was  necessary  to  have  an  interest,  an  object.  At  least, 
he  reflected,  this  object  of  his  was  less  likely  to  lead  to 
undesirable  complications  than  might  be  the  result  of 
forcing  himself  to  make  love  to  somebody  else's  wife. 
Also,  it  was  more  in  accordance  with  his  individual  tastes, 
and  with  his  ideas  of  what  was  honourable  and  what  was 
base  in  a  man's  dealings  towards  his  fellow-men. 


24  DONNA   DIANA 

And  so,  for  this  carnival-time  at  least — the  Roman  car- 
nival season  extending  from  the  New  Year  to  the  beginning 
of  Lent — Vane  determined  to  perform  the  round  of  the 
Roman  social  treadmill,  drawing  a  line  only  at  the  tea- 
parties,  and  this  from  a  sense  of  something  due  to  his  man- 
hood. 

On  this  particular  Sunday  evening,  having  dined  in 
the  black  world  at  a  house  in  the  Piazza  Santi  Apostoli, 
Vane  remembered  that  it  was  some  time  since  he  had  paid 
the  Countess  Verini  a  visit.  His  dinner-party  had  not 
been  a  very  exhilarating  function,  comprising,  as  it  had 
done,  an  old  and  worthy  Cardinal,  an  English  Bishop 
paying  his  visit  ad  limina  Apostolorum,  and  various  shining 
lights  among  the  English  Roman  Catholic  laity  at  that 
moment  in  Rome  in  the  character  of  pilgrims. 

A  change  of  colour,  he  thought,  would  be  a  decided  relief. 
The  Cardinal  had  talked  to  him  for  some  time  after  dinner, 
holding  his  hand  and  patting  it  the  while — an  embarrassing 
process,  making  conversation  difficult. 

The  Countess  Verini  would  certainly  not  pat  his  hand; 
he  was  not  literary  or  artistic  enough  for  that.  But  in  any 
case  it  was  more  amusing  to  pretend  to  be  clever  than  to 
pretend  to  be  pious. 

Vane  found  Countess  Verini's  drawing-room  fuller  than 
usual.  A  glance  at  the  sofa  on  which  his  hostess  was  sitting 
showed  him  that  a  ( lion '  was  spending  the  evening  in 
Casa  Verini.  Countess  Verini  was  listening  with  an  ex- 
pression of  rapt  attention  on  her  face  to  the  words  falling 
from  the  lips  of  a  short,  dark  man  of  an  unwholesome  com- 
plexion who  was  sitting  next  her,  only  remarkable  at  first 
sight  for  the  forbidding  expression  of  his  countenance,  and 
for  the  possession  of  an  elaborately  embroidered  shirt-front, 
in  the  centre  of  which  glittered  a  large  yellow  diamond 
stud. 

Groups  of  people  were  standing  about  the  sofa,  and 
Edmund  was  about  to  make  his  way  through  them  in 
order  to  salute  his  hostess,  when  a  prolonged  e  Hush-sh ! ' 
went  round  the  room. 


DONNA   DIANA  25 

'  He  is  going  to  read  a  scene  from  his  new  drama,  "  Le 
Vittime,"  '  whispered  somebody  at  Edmund's  elbow,  and, 
looking  round,  he  recognized  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  He 
has  mistaken  the  title/  the  latter  added  with  a  chuckle. 
'  He  should  have  called  it  "  Le  Spudorate." ' 

The  lion  rose  languidly  from  the  sofa  and  took  up  a 
position  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  again  an  imperious 
4  Hush-sh-sh ! '  was  heard,  while  Countess  Verini  leaned 
her  head  back  on  the  sofa  cushions  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Suddenly  the  great  maestro  looked  round  with  a  pained 
expression. 

'  The  light ! 9  he  said,  passing  his  hand  over  his  eyes 
and  through  his  hair.  '  It  is  too  much.  The  scene  is 
tender — an  idyll  of  the  night — of  the  night  and  of  love, 
you  understand.  Cara  Contessa,  a  single  lamp — so ! '  he 
added,  as  at  a  rapid  sign  from  Countess  Verini  the  electric 
light  was  reduced  to  one  rose-shaded  globe  that  threw  a 
subdued  glow  on  the  poet's  person. 

The  scene  was  long  and  the  language  unquestionably 
beautiful.  The  pure,  classic  Italian  flowed  like  a  limpid 
stream  of  melody,  but  it  flowed  over  ugly  places,  slimy 
rocks,  in  the  recesses  of  which  lurked  evil  things.  The 
passion  rang  false,  and  while  singing  of  love  the  song  never 
shook  itself  free  from  lust.  Art  was  there,  but  it  was  the 
art  that  suggests,  deceives,  and  falls  back  into  the  dust. 
The  poem  came  to  an  end  at  last,  and  Vane  wished  it  were 
not  contrary  to  the  customs  of  polite  society  to  kick  the 
poet.  The  pruriency  of  it  did  not  shock  him,  but  the 
effeminate,  cat-like  cruelty  masquerading  as  love  disgusted 
him. 

A  murmur  of  reverent  applause  followed  the  closing 
words.  Countess  Verini  rose  from  her  sofa  and  grasped 
the  poet's  hands  warmly. 

( It  is  magnificent ! '  she  exclaimed.  '  Such  power  and 
such  exquisite  pathos!  You  are  great,  Carusio,  great  as 
Dante,  as  Shakespeare,  as  Goethe  were  great!  Nay,  who 
knows  whether  you  are  not  greater  ?  For  you  appeal  to  the 
soul,  to  the  spirit,  where  they  appealed  to  the  intellect/ 


26  DOXNA   DIANA 

<  Oh  la,  la ! '  murmured  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  But  the 
compliment  is  doubtful.' 

'  Ah,  Contessa,'  replied  the  poet  in  a  harsh,  unmusical 
voice,  'the  great  men  you  mention  lived  in  other  times. 
They  were  great,  certainly — very  great.  But  in  these  days 
the  artist  has  to  penetrate  the  furthest  depths  of  the  pas- 
sions developed  by  our  advanced  civilization.  Dante, 
Shakespeare — yes,  certainly  they  began  what  the  great  ones 
of  our  day  will  complete.' 

Countess  Verini's  restless  glance  fell  on  Edmund  Vane. 

'  Ah,  Mr.  Vane ! '  she  exclaimed  in  English.  ( I  did  not 
see  you  before.  You  arrived  in  time,  I  hope,  for  the  treat 
Carusio  has  given  us  ?  Carusio,  I  think  you  do  not  know 
Mr.  Vane — an  Englishman,  but  an  Englishman  with  other 
ideas  in  his  head  than  sport  and — what  do  you  call  that 
dreary  game  they  play  at  the  Villa  Doria — golf,  is  it  not  ?  ' 

Edmund  bowed  a  little  coldly  to  the  poet,  and  Countess 
Verini  resumed  her  place  on  the  sofa,  motioning  him  to 
sit  beside  her. 

( Well,  Mr.  Vane,  it  is  three  weeks  that  I  do  not  see  you,' 
she  said  in  her  somewhat  broken  English.  '  You  have  been 
well  occupied,  no  doubt.  In  Rome  there  is  so  much  for  the 
mind/ 

All  the  time  the  Countess  Verini  was  speaking  her  eyes 
roamed  quickly  round  the  room.  Edmund  commenced  an 
apology  for  his  delay  in  coming  to  see  her,  but  immediately 
became  conscious  that  his  hostess  was  not  listening  to  a 
word  he  said. 

Suddenly  she  called  to  a  young  man  standing  a  few  paces 
off. 

6  Marco,  you  know  Mr.  Vane,  do  you  not  ?  But  of  course 
you  do — your  brother's  friend ; '  and  without  waiting  for  a 
reply  she  hurried  across  the  room  to  her  lion. 

Don  Marco  Savelli  advanced  and  shook  hands  with 
Edmund.  He  was  very  unlike  his  brother  Michelangelo, 
though  he  had  something  of  the  latter's  good  looks.  Lino's 
frank  expression  was  altogether  absent  from  his  elder 
brother's  countenance,  as  also  were  his  pleasant  smile  and 


DONNA   DIANA  27 

graceful,,  yet  manly,  bearing.  Marco's  eyes  were  black  in 
colour  and  furtive,  while  his  face  was  pale  and  somewhat 
dissipated-looking.  Edmund  had  met  him  many  times, 
but  had  always  felt  intuitively  that  Don  Marco  disliked 
him,  though  the  latter  had  never  been  anything  but  civil  in 
his  manner  towards  the  foreigner  who  had  saved  his 
brother's  life.  Vane  could  only  suppose  he  unconsciously 
showed  that  he  reciprocated  his  dislike.  He  knew  Marco 
to  be  high  in  favour  with  his  uncle  the  Cardinal;  whereas 
Lino  was  regarded  by  that  ecclesiastic  as  a  black  sheep,  or 
rather,  perhaps,  as  a  white  one.  Don  Marco  was  attached 
to  the  clerical  party,  and  had  been  educated  at  Mondragone 
under  the  eye  of  the  Jesuits.  There  had  even  been  at  one 
time  some  idea  of  his  entering  the  priesthood  in  accordance 
with  Cardinal  Savelli's  strongly  expressed  wishes. 

He  had  continued  to  remain  a  layman,  however,  without 
forfeiting  his  uncle's  regard — a  regard  which  his  younger 
brother  had  hopelessly  lost  by  making  no  secret  of  his 
scepticism  concerning  dogmatic  religion  generally  and  the 
claims  of  the  Vatican  in  particular. 

The  breach  had  been  definitely  made  when  Lino  had 
insisted  upon  entering  the  Italian  army;  and  from  what 
Vane  had  heard,  though  he  had  never  heard  it  from  Lino, 
he  had  reason  to  believe  that  Don  Marco  had  been  instru- 
mental in  encouraging  the  Cardinal's  resentment  rather 
than  in  seeking  to  allay  it. 

CI  could  not  prevail  on  your  brother  to  come  here  to- 
night/ Edmund  remarked,  more  for  the  sake  of  saying 
something  than  because  he  had  any  desire  to  talk  of  Lino. 

The  latter  smiled  a  little  sneeringly. 

( The  Countess  Verini's  salon  is  not  much  in  Lino's  line,' 
he  observed.  'No  doubt  he  is  gambling  at  the  club  or 
improving  his  mind  at  a  cafe-chantant.  I  did  not  know 
that  you  cared  about  our  world,'  he  added. 

Vane  was  not  a  man  to  take  offence  easily,  but  the  other's 
tone  irritated  him.  It  was  unmistakably  patronizing  and  a 
little  contemptuous. 

c  As  you  appear  to  know  so  little  of  your  brother's  tastes/ 


28  DONNA   DIANA 

he  replied  dryly,  ( I  can  hardly  expect  you  to  know  much 
of  mine.  Lino,  I  believe,  is  neither  gambling  nor  at  a 
cafe-chantant,  but  at  the  opera/ 

Don  Marco's  sallow  face  flushed  and  his  black  eyes 
gleamed  angrily.  Then  he  recovered  himself. 

'  It  would  be  such  a  good  thing/  he  said,  ( if  you  could 
persuade  our  dear  Lino  to  take  life  more  seriously.  I  am 
afraid  he  spends  a  great  deal  of  money  on — well,  on  not 
very  profitable  objects/ 

'  You  forget/  Vane  replied, '  that  I  am  not  your  brother's 
keeper.  Lino  amuses  himself.  Why  not?  But  I  believe 
he  thinks  there  are  other  things  than  money  worth  having 
in  the  world.' 

.  Edmund  knew  that  Don  Marco  Savelli,  though  by  no 
means  a  fair  specimen  of  the  modern  Roman  youths  of  the 
upper  class,  was  nevertheless  of  a  type  still  far  too  numerous 
among  them — an  indolent,  extravagant  young  fellow,  com- 
pletely unscrupulous  where  money  was  concerned,  but 
yet  possessing  to  the  full  that  exaggerated  sense  of  self- 
importance  which  has  ever  been  the  bane  of  the  Roman 
noblesse. 

It  was  no  part,  however,  of  Edmund's  policy  to  quarrel 
with  Marco  Savelli;  on  the  contrary,  he  had  every  reason 
to  be  on  friendly  terms  with  him. 

'  I  met  Cardinal  Savelli  the  other  night  at  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco/  he  said,  fearing  that  his  manner  had  been  a 
little  too  dry.  '  He  was  kind  enough  to  ask  me  to  come 
see  him,  which  I  have  not  yet  been  able,  to  do.  What 
hour  would  be  convenient  to  him,  do  you  think,  to  receive 
me?' 

Marco  was  all  smiles  at  once. 

'  Of  course/  he  replied,  ( my  uncle  would  be  delighted. 
In  fact,  he  was  talking  about  you  the  other  day,  and  told 
me  he  had  met  you.  You  go  often  to  the  Palazzo  San 
Rocco,  do  you  not?  Naturally,  being  so  intimate  with 
Lino,  you  are  au  mieux  with  the  family.' 

'  I  go  there  very  seldom/  answered  Vane.  '  Sometimes 
when  the  Princess  receives ' 


DONNA   DIANA  29 

Marco  looked  at  him  a  little  suspiciously — -a  quick  look 
from  beneath  his  heavy,  half-closed  eyelids. 

'  Oh/  he  said  indifferently,  '  I  thought  you  were  a 
frequent  visitor.  But  of  course  I  do  not  know !  Lino  is 
the  favourite  in  Casa  San  Eocco;  I  do  not  very  often  go 
there.  I  find  it  dull — very  dull.  And  my  cousins — they 
are  estimable  girls,  but  they  are  dull  also;  and — well, 
frankly,  my  dear  Vane,  I  do  not  suppose  that  you  find 
them  good-looking  ? ' 

Vane  hesitated  for  a  moment;  Don  Marco  was  looking 
at  him  inquisitively. 

'  What  do  you  expect  me  to  say  ? 9  he  replied,  laughing. 
'  They  are,  at  least,  very  amiable,  which  to  a  stranger 
like  myself  is  more  important  than  their  looks/ 

Marco  smiled. 

'You  should  be  a  diplomat/  he  observed  a  little  satiri- 
cally ;  and  then  he  added  suddenly :  '  But  I  think  you  have 
met  another  cousin  of  mine  and  of  theirs  at  Palazzo  San 
Rocco — I  mean,  my  cousin  Diana  Savelli/ 

6  Yes,  I  have  met  her/  answered  Edmund  quietly ;  '  that 
is  to  say,  I  have  seen  her,  but  I  was  not  presented  to  her/ 

Don  Marco  laughed. 

6  You  need  not  regret  the  fact — of  not  having  been  pre- 
sented, I  mean.  My  aunt  probably  did  not  wish  you  to 
waste  your  time/  \ 

'  To  waste  my  time ! '  repeated  Vane. 

He  felt  that  Marco  Savelli  was  fencing  with  him,  and 
he  rather  enjoyed  the  feeling.  He  had  before  now  ex- 
perienced the  sensation  when  talking  to  other  Romans.  It 
had  sometimes  amused  him  to  follow  the  strange  combina- 
tion of  subtlety  and  ingenuousness  of  the  average  Roman 
when  engaged  in  trying  to  outwit  a  foreigner,  and  to  notice 
his  child-like  assumption,  fatal  to  the  ends  he  may  have  in 
view,  that  every  foreigner,  and  especially  every  English- 
man, must  necessarily  be  a  fool. 

'  Certainly/  continued  Marco.  e  Did  you  not  know  my 
cousin  Diana  is  going  to  be  a  nun  ? ? 

' Really!'  replied  Vane  indifferently. 


30  DONNA   DIANA 

Marco  looked  at  him  hard  again. 

'Yes/  he  said.  'It  is  odd  that  you  should  not  have 
known — that  Lino  should  not  have  told  you/ 

'I  don't  particularly  see  why  he  should  have  told  me/ 
observed  Edmund. 

'It  is  strange,  is  it  not,  that  a  girl  like  Diana  should 
choose  such  a  life?'  proceeded  Marco. 

'  It  is  not  uncommon.' 

'  No,  of  course  not,  in  the  case  of  ugly  girls.  But  in  her 
case — well,  one  cannot  but  admire  her  for  her  holiness. 
It  is  useless  to  reason  with  that  kind  of  thing.  Indeed, 
we  should  be  thankful  that  the  world  contains  such  pure 
spirits,  ready  to  devote  themselves  to  a  life  of  prayer  in 
order  to  avert  God's  anger  from  its  wickedness.' 

Vane  glanced  at  him,  and  then  hoped  that  his  glance 
did  not  betray  the  contempt  he  felt. 

'  You  did  not  tell  me  the  hour  at  which  Cardinal  Savelli 
receives  visitors/  he  said. 

'  Oh,  but  do  not  trouble  yourself,  my  dear  Vane !  I 
hardly  know  what  to  say;  you  see,  it  is  difficult  to  find 
him.  In  the  mornings,  if  he  is  not  summoned  to  the 
Vatican,  he  is  occupied  receiving  people  on  business,  and 
in  the  afternoons  he  usually  goes  for  a  drive.  My  uncle 
leads  a  very  retired  life,  and  does  not  entertain  at  all,  or 
I  would  ask  you  to  come  to  breakfast  with  us,  as  I  live 
with  him,  you  know/ 

Just  then  Countess  Verini  interrupted  them.  She  re- 
turned to  her  sofa,  followed  by  the  poet  and  several  other 
men. 

'We  are  discussing/  she  said,  'the  gospel  of  Tolstoi. 
Carusio  says  that  he  lacks  sympathy  with  the  beautiful; 
that  he  is  tedious — grand  poseur,  in  short.  What  do  you 
say,  monsieur  ? '  she  added,  turning  to  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois. 

'  Madame/  replied  the  latter, '  I  regret  to  say  that  I  have 
not  the  time  to  read  him;  but  I  accept  Carusio's  opinion. 
He  should  be  an  admirable  critic  of  the  defects  he  finds 
in  Count  Tolstoi.' 


DONNA   DIANA  31 

'  It  is  true.  Do  you  hear,  Carusio  ? — you  are  an  admir- 
able critic/  said  Countess  Verini. 

Vane  laughed  to  himself.  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  sense 
of  humour  was  always  refreshing  in  Eoman  drawing-rooms, 
the  more  so  because  it  was  distinctly  an  exotic.  He  and 
Vane  had  become  very  good  friends,  owing  no  doubt  to 
the  fact  that  he  found  Edmund  capable  of  appreciating 
his  little  cynicisms. 

'  Let  us  escape,  mon  cher,'  he  whispered,  pressing  Vane's 
arm.  '  If  we  must  continue  to  admire  each  other's  talents, 
we  shall  do  so  more  comfortably  at  the  Circolo  della 
Caccia!' 

It  was  very  easy  to  slip  out  of  the  rooms  unobserved 
by  their  hostess,  for  the  lion  on  the  sofa  was  roaring  as 
gently  as  any  sucking-dove;  and  Countess  Verini  was  en- 
gaged in  sympathizing  with  one  of  her  female  guests  who 
had  lately  opened  a  shop,  the  profits  of  which  were  to  be 
devoted  to*charity,  at  the  difficulty  she  experienced  in 
balancing  her  accounts. 


CHAPTER  IV 

'  THAT  is  a  visit  which  need  not  be  repeated  for  a  month/ 
said  Monsieur  de  Villebois  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  he  and 
Vane  found  themselves  once  more  in  the  open  streets. 

The  night  was  mild  and  balmy,  midwinter  though  it 
was;  and,  instead  of  repairing  to  the  Caccia  Club,  close 
at  hand,  the  two  men  preferred  to  walk  along  the  Corso. 

'At  least  we  shall  breathe  some  fresh  air/  continued 
De  Villebois.  '  Carusio's  intellectual  atmosphere  is  too 
redolent  of — what  shall  I  say? — of  patchouli/ 

Edmund  laughed. 

( You  define  it  exactly/  he  replied.  e  But  Madame  Verini 
amuses  me.  Is  she  a  clever  woman,  or  a  fool  ? ' 

'  Socially  she  is  clever ;  intellectually '  And  Mon- 
sieur de  Vilebois  paused  expressively.  (  She  has  a  mar- 
vellous talent  for  playing  upon  the  vanity  of  clever  people 
— for  extracting  some  of  their  ideas  and  reproducing  them 
to  her  admirers  as  her  own.  But,  look  you,  she  is  not  a 
woman  to  be  ignored  here  in  Rome.  She  knows  the  ropes, 
and  some  of  them  she  has  the  means  of  pulling.  You  are 
not  intimate  with  the  Countess  Verini — no?' 

6  Not  at  all !  I  have  the  slightest  possible  acquaintance 
with  her.  I  don't  know  why  she  invites  me  to  her  house, 
for  I  am  certainly  neither  literary  nor  artistic/  said  Vane, 
smiling. 

'  Oh,  as  to  that,  it  does  not  signify.  You  are  one  of  the 
few  Englishmen  here  who  go  into  society.  You  are  rich, 
and  you  are  a  Catholic.' 

'A  Catholic!'  interrupted  Edmund.  'But  I  thought 
that  Countess  Verini  was  very  independent  in  her  views.' 

'  So  she  is/  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois  dryly.  '  Her 
Catholicism,  like  her  Bohemianism,  is  an  affaire  de  poll- 


DONNA   DIANA  33 

tique,  as  it  is  with  most  of  us.  Going  to  Mass  does  not 
prevent  her  from  having  her  admirers,  neither  does  going 
to  Confession — on  the  contrary.' 

'  And  Count  Verini?' 

'  Count  Verini  is  in  Persia,  or  in  Japan — anywhere, 
indeed,  that  you  choose.  He  does  not  often  take  his  leave ; 
but  when  he  does,  like  a  sensible  man,  he  prefers  to  spend 
it  in  Paris/ 

'  Do  you  know  him  ?  '  asked  Edmund. 

'  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him/  said 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  gravely,  '  but  I  have  often  heard  his 
wife  talk  of  him.' 

(  And  Madame  Verini  consoles  herself  in  his  absence,' 
said  Vane,  smiling. 

'  Oh,  not  at  all !  She  consoles  others — politically,  you 
understand,  and  artistically.' 

( But  I  don't  understand.' 

'  No  ?  Perhaps  not.  It  is  natural.  You  have  not  yet 
been  long  enough  in  Eome.  The  Countess  Verini  adores 
success.  A  successful  artist,  politician,  even  a  successful 
priest,  is  a  delight  to  her.  Moreover,  she  is  very  charitable, 
and  always  ready  to  assist  people  to  lucrative  posts  in  their 
profession/ 

Vane  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

'  I  wonder  what  you  mean  to  imply/  he  said,  laughing. 

'  But  nothing  disagreeable,  mon  cher !  I  only  want  to 
make  you  understand  that  Countess  Verini  is  not  what  you 
might  think  she  was — a  precieuse  ridicule  and  nothing 
more.  There  is  much  method  in  her  madness.  Eome  is 
a  very  curious  place.  There  are  a  great  many  strings,  and 
the  ends  of  them  are  to  be  found  in  the  most  unexpected 
quarters.  No  doubt  you,  like  most  of  your  nation,  and 
more  especially  like  your  Catholic  compatriots,  come  to 
Eome  firmly  persuaded  that  there  are  only  two  strings — 
one  of  which  is  being  pulled  by  the  devil,  and  the  other 
by  the  Holy  Ghost.  And  you  apportion  the  pullers  ac- 
cording to  your  individual  religious  and  political  preju- 
dices. Well,  it  is  a  great  mistake.  There  is  one  big,  strong 


34  DONNA   DIANA 

rope,  and  quite  a  number  of  smaller  cords  by  which  it  is 
worked/ 

( And  your  big,  strong  rope  is ' 

'  Money,  my  dear  friend,  money — and  always  money.  In 
most  places  people  are  content  to  admit  that  money  means 
power.  In  Rome  it  is  very  generally  recognised  that  power 
means  money.  It  is  a  more  dangerous  maxim  than  the 
other/ 

'  It  is  odious ! '  exclaimed  Edmund, '  and  I  do  not  believe 
it — not,  at  all  events,  so  far  as  the  Church  is  concerned. 
Allow  me,  at  least,  to  continue  in  my  belief  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  pulls  that  string.  For  all  I  know,  money  may  be 
the  moving  spirit  of  the  social  and  political  part  of  Rome 
— indeed,  I  have  heard  that  it  is  so.  But  the  Church 
stands  above  and  apart  from  that  life — disowns  it,  in 
fact.' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  paused  for  a  moment  in  his  walk. 

c  My  dear  Mr.  Vane/  he  replied,  '  I,  like  yourself,  am  a 
Catholic  by  profession,  and  though,  like  the  large  majority 
of  Catholics  in  the  world,  the  indignant  denials  of  the 
priests  and  the  "good"  Catholics  notwithstanding,  I  do 
not  by  any  means  believe  in  all  the  fantasias  of  the  theo- 
logians, I  am  very  far  indeed  from  judging  Catholicism 
by  Vaticanism,  or  from  holding  the  former  responsible 
for  the  corruption  of  the  latter.  Do  not  misunderstand 
me  on  this  point,  I  beg  of  you.' 

e  I  am  beginning  to  understand  your  position/  said  Vane. 
'  Last  year  I  should  not  have  understood  so  much.' 

'  I  never  discuss  these  points  with  English  Roman  Catho- 
lics/ continued  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'for  either,  like 
yourself,  they  are  too  superficially  acquainted  with  what 
I  may  call  the  central  machinery  of  their  faith,  or,  if  they 
have  realized  its  workings — so  far  as  the  English  mind 
can  realize  them — too  of  ten,  like  the  man  in  the  parable, 
their  last  state  is  worse  than  their  first.  They  become 
fanatics.' 

Vane  kept  silence.  He  knew  that  his  companion  had 
some  right  to  speak  of  matters  appertaining  to  Rome,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  35 

especially  on  those  connected  with  the  Roman  Church. 
Monsieur  de  Yillebois  had  been  for  years  Conseiller  at  the 
French  Embassy  to  the  Vatican  before  he  retired  from  the 
diplomatic  service;  and  for  some  time,  during  a  period  of 
acute  friction  between  his  Government  and  the  Holy  See, 
he  had  filled  the  post  of  Charge  d?  Affaires  in  the  absence 
of  his  chief,  officially  supposed  to  have  returned  to  France 
on  indefinite  leave. 

'But  we  were  talking  of  Countess  Verini/  De  Villebois 
resumed,  'and  perhaps  you  do  not  see  the  connection. 
Between  ourselves,  my  friend,  she  is  one  of  those  women 
who  are  hanging  on  to  the  smaller  cords.  Here  the  latter 
are  generally  manipulated  by  women.  The  Countess  Verini 
has  been  the  chere  amie  of  several  political  personages, 
some  of  whom  have  been  bitter  enemies,  politically  as  well 
as  privately.  It  must  often  have  been  sufficiently  di- 
verting. 

<  She  has  talent,  for  she  has  never  compromised  herself 
or  her  friends  too  deeply.  After  all,  women  of  that  kind 
can  always  protect  themselves  by  going  regularly  to  Mass. 
In  your  country  they  affect  philanthropy  and  visit  the 
poor,  do  they  not  ?  ' 

( Evidently/  said  Edmund,  '  I  have  only  seen  one  side 
of  the  Countess  Verini's  character.  She  seems  to  be  a  very 
versatile  lady,  but  interesting,  I  should  say,  to  observe  from 
a  distance.  I  do  not  quite  understand  the  literary  and 
artistic  pose,  however.' 

'Ah,  as  to  that/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'like 
the  confessional,  it  is  a  protection.  Art  enjoys  the  same 
prerogative  as  charity/ 

'I  have  only  been  two  or  three  times  to  her  evenings/ 
said  Vane,  '  so  I  have  hardly  realized  who  are  the  habitues 
of  her  salon.  I  saw  Don  Marco  Savelli  there  to-night. 
Is  he  a  constant  attendant  ?  I  noticed  that  Countess 
Verini  called  him  by  his  Christian  name.  They  are  not 
relations,  I  think?' 

Monsieur  Villebois  smiled. 

( Certainly  not/  he  replied.    '  Countess  Verini  is  not  a 


36  DONNA    DIANA 

Eoman — she  comes  from  the  South  of  Italy.  As  for  Marco 
Savelli,  he  is  a  string — voila  tout!' 

6  A  very  frail  string,  I  should  imagine/  said  Edmund, 
a  little  contemptuously. 

( Possibly,  but  a  long  one.  A  string  that  reaches  across 
the  Tiber,  and  the  other  end  of  which  is  in  the  Vatican. 
I  saw  you  talking  to  him/  continued  Monsieur  de  Villebois. 
( He  is  very  different  from  his  brother/ 

( I  should  think  he  was,  indeed ! '  exclaimed  Vane. 
'  There  is  not  much  love  lost  between  them,  I  imagine. 
Not  that  Lino  has  ever  said  anything  to  me  to  warrant 
my  thinking  so/  he  added  hastily. 

'  Do  you  know  this  uncle,  the  Cardinal  ? '  asked  Monsieur 
de  Villebois. 

'I  have  met  him  at  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco/  said  Ed- 
mund. '  He  asked  me  to  come  to  see  him,  and  it  was  that 
I  was  speaking  about  to  Don  Marco. 

( It  struck  me  he  did  not  seem  very  anxious  that  I  should 
call  on  his  uncle,  for  when  I  asked  him  at  what  hour  the 
Cardinal  received  visitors  he  was  very  vague,  and  rather 
put  me  off.' 

De  Villebois  nodded  his  head. 

'  Ah/  he  observed,  ( Marco  Savelli  is  determined  not  to 
allow  the  Cardinal  to  make  up  his  quarrel  with  Lino. 
No  doubt  he  feared  lest  the  latter  might  employ  you  as  an 
ambassador  of  peace.  What  else  did  you  talk  about,  if  it 
is  not  an  indiscreet  question  ? 9 

'  Not  at  all  indiscreet/  replied  Vane.  f  We  talked  of  his 
relations,  the  San  Eocco.  He  appeared  anxious  to  know  if 
I  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  his  cousin,  Donna  Diana.' 

'Ah,  Donna  Diana/  observed  Monsieur  de  Villebois 
meditatively — '  yes  ?  And  have  you  made  her  acquaintance, 
Monsieur  Vane  ? ' 

Edmund  Vane  glanced  at  him  quickly.  He  thought  he 
detected  a  trace  of  something  more  than  idle  curiosity  in 
Monsieur  de  Villebois'  voice  as  he  asked  the  question.  He 
wondered  if  the  ex-diplomat  were  e  pumping '  him,  and  if 
so  what  his  object  in  doing  so  might  be. 


DONNA    DIANA  37 

'  No/  he  answered,  truthfully  enough.  A  fleeting  smile 
passed  over  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  face. 

'  But  you  have  seen  her  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  I  have  seen  her,  yes ;  but  I  was  not  introduced  to  her/ 

'Ah!  You  were  in  Casa  San  Rocco  on  New  Year's 
Night,  were  you  not  ? ' 

Vane  looked  at  him  with  surprise. 

'  Yes/  he  answered,  '  I  was.  But  how  do  you  know, 
monsieur  ? ' 

The  other  laughed. 

'  My  dear  friend/  he  said, '  the  question  shows  how  little 
you  know  Rome.  Do  you  suppose  that  everyone  is  not 
aware  that  Lino  Savelli  took  you  to  supper  at  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  on  the  last  night  of  the  year?  When  you  are 
better  acquainted  with  this  little  wile  de  province,  you  will 
understand  that  half  of  it  knows  all  that  the  other  half  is 
doing — and  a  great  deal  that  it  has  never  done.  For  the 
rest,  it  was  indiscreet  of  Lino — but  he  is  always  impetuous, 
that  dear  boy ! ' 

Edmund  felt  a  little  uncomfortable. 

'  Indiscreet?  Then  Fm  afraid  it  was  still  more  indis- 
creet of  me  to  go.  I  told  Lino  I  did  not  much  like 
doing  so/ 

'  It  was  an  indiscretion  from  some  people's  point  of 
view ; '  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  (  New  Year's  Night 
is  regarded  here  as  a  time  for  families  and  their  most 
intimate  friends  to  meet.  For  instance/  he  added,  glancing 
at  Edmund,  'had  strangers  been  expected  Donna  Diana 
would  not  have  appeared.  Casa  San  Rocco  is  an  old- 
fashioned  house.' 

'But  the  Princess  received  me  very  cordially/  said 
Vane,  'and  so  did  the  Prince.  At  least,  they  did  not 
make  me  feel  de  trop  in  any  way.  I  should  certainly  not 
have  gone  had  Lino  not  made  such  a  point  of  it.  Now  you 
have  made  me  feel  very  uncomfortable.' 

'You  have  no  reason  to  be  so/  returned  Monsieur  de 
Villebois.  '  So  far  as  the  Prince  and  Princess  are  con- 
cerned, their  welcome  was  perfectly  sincere;  I  am  sure  of 


38  DONNA   DIANA 

that.  Nevertheless,  your  presence  was  a  surprise.  How- 
ever, you  are  not  to  be  pitied/ 

'  Really  ? '  said  Vane,  smiling.    '  I  am  glad  of  that.' 

'  Certainly  not/  answered  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  You 
have  had  an  opportunity  of  looking  at  Donna  Diana  Savelli. 
It  is  an  opportunity  not,  as  a  rule,  afforded  to  young  men ; 
and,  pardon  me,  my  dear  friend,  but  I  hear — Rome  has 
heard — that  you  made  the  most  of  it/ 

Vane  was  conscious  of  a  blush,  and  hoped  that  it  might 
pass  unobserved  in  the  glare  of  the  electric  lamps. 

'  Well,'  he  replied,  laughing  a  little  constrainedly,  '  a 
man  might  be  excused  for  looking  more  than  once  at 
Donna  Diana  Savelli.' 

'  So  I  believe,'  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  with  a  passing 
gleam  of  amusement  in  his  eyes.  f  I  have  never  have  had 
the  good  fortune  to  behold  her,  but  I  judge  from  report. 
The  worst  of  it  is,'  he  added,  'that  men  are  very  seldom 
content  to  stop  short  at  looking,  especially  men  of  your 
age,  and  it  is  not  considered  good  manners  to  observe  other 
people's  fiancees  too  closely,  Monsieur  Vane.' 

*  But  Donna  Diana  is  not  fiancee'  said  Edmund  quickly. 

'  Certainly  she  is,'  returned  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  (  She 
will  wear  her  bridal  clothes  and  her  bridal  veil,  and  then 
she  will  be  handed  over  to  her  husband.  Ah,  la  pauvre 
petite!'  and  he  broke  off  abruptly. 

Vane  turned  to  him  quickly. 

( I  understand  what  you  mean  now/  he  said.  '  Is  it  not 
monstrous,  ridiculous?  I  have  only  once  seen  that  girl,' 
he  continued,  '  but,  all  the  same,  when  I  heard  it  I  felt  as 
though  I  were  being  told  of  some  cowardly  crime.  What 
does  it  all  mean,  De  Villebois  ? ' 

In  his  indignation  Edmund  scarcely  noticed  that  he  had 
dropped  the  prefix  of  ' monsieur'  in  addressing  his  com- 
panion. 

The  latter  smiled  at  his  eagerness. 

( I  cannot  tell  what  it  means/  he  answered  quietly.  '  It 
is  never  very  easy  to  know  what  things  mean  in  Rome. 
There  are  always  wheels  within  wheels.  But  I  agree  with 


DONNA   DIANA  39 

you  as  to  the  monstrosity  of  the  thing.  Has  Lino  talked 
to  you  about  it  ? ' 

'  A  little.  He  deplored  it,  but  he  seems  to  regard  it 
with  comparative  indifference,  which  is  strange  in  anybody 
of  his  nature  and  independence  of  ideas/ 

'  No,  it  is  not  strange/  replied  De  Villebois.  e  It  is  not 
so  easy  to  break  away  from  old  traditions  and  customs, 
and  Lino  Savelli,  though  he  thinks  for  himself,  is  never- 
theless a  Koman  of  the  old  blood.  We  Latins  seldom  in- 
terfere with  the  women  in  matters  which  are  supposed 
to  be  connected  with  religion.  If  it  were  not  for  this, 
both  France  and  Italy  would  long  ago  have  thrown  off 
much  of  their  faith  in  dogma,  and  no  Latin  country  would 
possess  a  nominal  State  Church.  Indifference  on  the  part 
of  the  men  and  fanaticism  on  the  part  of  the  women  are  the 
two  supporters  of  Catholicism  in  these  modern  days.  And 
the  Koman,  above  all  men,  does  not  take  his  faith  very 
seriously.  Indeed,  having  been  bred  and  born  in  the 
shadow  of  St.  Peter's,  he  is  filled  with  a  mild  wonder  at 
those  who  do/ 

'But  Lino  has,  I  believe,  expostulated  with  Princess 
San  Rocco  on  Donna  Diana's  determination/  said  Vane. 

'  No  doubt ;  but  his  remonstrances  would  have  little 
effect/  answered  De  Villebois.  e  Princess  San  Rocco  is  a 
devoted  Catholic;  that  is  to  say,  according  to  her  lights 
she  is  a  very  good  woman.  But  her  lights  burn  in  the 
Vatican,  and  she  is  unable  to  see  any  others.  Moreover, 
her  brother,  the  second  surviving  brother  of  Donna  Diana's 
father,  is  a  Cardinal/ 

( That  is  true/  observed  Edmund ; c  and  Cardinal  Savelli 
is  also  guardian  to  his  niece/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  looked  up  quickly. 

'  What  do  you  say  ? '  he  asked. 

Vane  repeated  his  words,  and  De  Villebois  was  silent 
for  a  moment  or  two. 

'  That  is  a  very  interesting  piece  of  news/  he  said 
presently.  'I  had  not  happened  to  hear  it  before.  But 
are  you  sure  it  is  correct?' 


40  DONNA   DIANA 

'  My  authority,  of  course,  is  Lino/  answered  Vane.  '  He 
did  not  speak  of  it  as  if  it  were  any  mystery.  But  what 
sort  of  a  man  is  Cardinal  Savelli  ? '  he  added.  '  When  I 
saw  him  he  gave  me  the  impression  of  being  an  amiable, 
easy-going  ecclesiastic.  I  was  rather  surprised,  for  he  was 
not  what  I  imagined  him  to  be/ 

'  And  what  had  you  imagined  him  to  be  ? '  asked  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois. 

'  Well,  I  expected  to  see  a  man  of  stronger  personality. 
I  had  always  heard  of  him  as  a  Cardinal  of  some  influence/ 

'  He  has  some  influence  in  Rome/  said  Monsieur  de 
Villebois,  '  because  he  is  one  of  the  few  members  of  the 
Sacred  College  who  is  of  noble  blood.  Moreover,  he  is  sup- 
posed to  be  rich  and  a  miser,  two  qualities  that  would 
secure  him  a  certain  degree  of  sympathy  and  attention  on 
the  other  side  of  the  Tiber/ 

'But  surely/  said  Vane,  'he  would  never  countenance 
Donna  Diana's  ideas  if  he  were  not  convinced  that  they 
were  the  result  of  a  genuine  vocation  ? ' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  laughed  gently. 

'  My  dear  Vane/  he  said — '  for  I  will  follow  your  good 
example  and  drop  formalities — you  remind  me  that  I  am 
talking  to  an  English  Catholic.  A  genuine  vocation  in  a 
girl  of  eighteen !  But  where  does  the  mind  come  in  ?  and 
what,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  becomes  of  human  nature  ? 
Good-night,  my  dear  friend.  My  way  lies  across  the 
Ripetta.  You  have  told  me  quite  an  interesting  piece  of 
news,  but  I  shall  keep  it  to  myself.  I  only  hope  that  I 
may  hear  you  have  been  guilty  of  another  indiscretion, 
and  that  you  and  the  charming  Donna  Diana  will  meet 
again.  There  is  never  much  to  talk  about  in  Rome,  though 
there  is  an  enormous  amount  to  occupy  the  thoughts ; ?  and 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  shook  hands,  raised  his  hat,  and  left 
Edmund  Vane  standing  at  the  corner  of  Via  Condotti. 


CHAPTEE  V 

CARDINAL  SAVELLI'S  carriage  stood  in  the  porte-cochere  of 
his  residence  in  the  Via  Giulia,  waiting  to  take  him  to  the 
Villa  Doria,  where,  it  being  a  bright,  crisp  day  in  January, 
he  had  proposed  to  take  a  little  gentle  exercise  by  walking 
up  and  down  under  the  ilex  avenues. 

It  was  a  well-appointed  carriage,  differing  in  that  re- 
spect from  the  funereal-looking  equipages  hired  from  liv- 
ery-stables by  his  fellow-eminences.  A  pair  of  handsome, 
black  Hungarian  horse  champed  impatiently  at  their  bits, 
as  though  resenting  the  delay  in  their  owner's  appearance, 
and  the  coachman,  in  his  neat  black  livery,  bore  no  resem- 
blance to  the  greasy-looking  domestics — suggestive  of  hy- 
brids between  undertaker's  assistants  and  decayed  waiters 
— by  whom  the  princes  of  the  Church  are  usually  attended 
when  abroad  in  the  streets  of  Eome. 

The  carriage  had  been  ordered  for  three  o'clock;  but  it 
was  considerably  past  that  hour,  and  the  Cardinal,  gener- 
ally methodical  in  his  habits,  was  still  in  his  private  study. 

In  the  ante-chamber  of  his  apartment  a  couple  of  serv- 
ants dozed  in  high-backed  chairs  on  each  side  of  a  table 
covered  with  red  baize,  on  which  was  an  inkstand,  a  couple 
of  rusty  steel-nibbed  pens,  and  an  open  book  for  visitors 
to  inscribe  their  names,  as  on  royalty.  A  clock  on  a  con- 
sole, flanked  by  a  pair  of  gilt-bronze  candlesticks,  ticked 
solemnly — the  only  sound  audible  save  the  heavy  breath- 
ing of  the  domestics  and  the  muffled  beating  of  the 
horses'  hoofs  stamping  restlessly  in  the  court-yard  below. 

A  curtain  of  red  damask  at  the  end  of  the  ante-chamber 
disclosed  through  its  half-open  folds  a  second  and  larger 
apartment,  with  gilded  chairs  set  formally  round  it.  In 
the  centre  of  the  room  was  a  dais  beneath  a  crimson  velvet 

41 


42  DONNA   DIANA 

canopy;  on  it  stood  a  single  armchair  with  its  seat  turned 
to  the  wall,  and  at  some  height  above  it  hung  a  portrait  of 
Leo  XIII. 

Suddenly  the  electric  bell  over  the  entrance-door  rang 
two  or  three  times  in  quick  succession.  The  servants 
shuffled  to  their  feet  and  went  to  answer  it. 

A  short,  dark  man  stepped  hurriedly  across  the  thresh- 
old. He  was  clad  in  a  rusty-black  soutane,  and,  but  for 
the  patch  of  violet  silk  showing  beneath  a  frayed  and  some- 
what dirty  collar,  might  have  been  taken  for  any  one  of  the 
unattached  priests  to  be  met  with  by  hundreds  in  the 
streets  of  Borne. 

'I  am  late/  he  said,  handing  his  bulky  umbrella  and 
dusty  felt  hat  to  one  of  the  servants.  '  His  Eminence  is 
at  home,  I  suppose  ?' 

'  His  Eminence  expected  monsignore  at  two  o'clock.  It 
is  now  nearly  half -past  three.' 

'I  know,  I  know/  returned  the  ecclesiastic,  wiping  his 
forehead  with  a  coloured  silk  pocket-handkerchief.  '  I  was 
detained.  Kindly  let  His  Eminence  know  that  I  am  here. 
He  is  alone,  I  conclude?' 

'Yes,  monsignore,  he  is  alone.  If  monsignore  will  ac- 
commodate himself  I  will  announce  him.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  followed  the  servant  into  the  adjoin- 
ing room,  and  sat  down  by  a  large  table  on  which  stood 
a  tall  ivory  crucifix,  mounted  on  a  pedestal  of  tortoise- 
shell  and  lapis-lazuli.  His  restless  black  eyes,  small  and 
set  closely  together,  glanced  furtively  round  the  room,  and 
then  fixed  themselves  on  the  door  through  which  the  man- 
servant had  disappeared. 

Monsignor  Tomei's  countenance  was  hardly  a  pleasant 
one.  A  physiognomist  might  have  discerned  cruelty  in  it; 
a  phrenologist  would  have  qualified  him  as  a  man  likely 
to  possess  dangerous  instincts.  The  mouth,  curving  down- 
wards at  the  corners,  and  projecting  lower  lip  looked  the 
more  disagreeable  by  reason  of  the  blue-black  bristles  on 
his  ill-shaven  cheeks  and  chin. 

Monsignor  Tomei  had  not  long  to  wait  for  his  audience. 


DONNA   DIANA  43 

The  servant  reappeared  almost  immediately,,  and,  drawing 
back  the  portiere,  motioned  him  to  enter  the  Cardinal's 
room,  noiselessly  closing  the  door  behind  him  as  soon  as 
the  priest  had  done  so. 

The  latter  began  to  excuse  his  unpunctuality.  It  was 
not  his  fault,  he  explained  rapidly,  letting  loose  a  torrent 
of  unnecessary  words.  He  had  been  detained  by  the  delay 
of  others  in  keeping  their  appointments.  He 

The  Cardinal  checked  him  with  a  slight  gesture. 

'  It  is  of  no  consequence,  monsignore,  since  you  are  here 
at  last/  he  observed.  '  Please  be  seated.  I  wish  to  speak 
with  you  on  an  important  matter.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  sat  down,  placing  a  puffy,  white  hand 
on  each  knee. 

Cardinal  Savelli  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Of  the  two 
he  seemed  to  be  the  more  nervous  and  ill  at  ease;  for  he 
walked  to  the  door  as  though  to  make  sure  that  it  was 
closed,  and  cleared  his  throat  once  or  twice  before  finally 
seating  himself  at  his  writing-table. 

'  I  regret  to  say/  he  began,  '  that  I  am  again  obliged  to 
ask  for  your  help  and  advice  regarding  a  very  tiresome 
affair,  monsignore.'  . 

Monsignor  Tomei  bowed. 

'  I  am  completely  at  your  Eminence's  service/  he  replied. 

'A  most  tiresome  affair/  repeated  the  Cardinal;  'the 
more  so  because  it  is  of  a  private  and  personal  nature.' 

And  he  paused  again,  tapping  an  ivory  paper-knife  nerv- 
ously on  the  table. 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him  quickly. 

'  Don  Marco  ? '  he  began. 

Cardinal  Savelli  shook  his  head. 

'  No/  he  replied.  '  This  time  it  is  not  Don  Marco ;  but, 
all  the  same,  it  is  a  matter  of  money,  my  dear  friend.  It 
is  always  money ! '  and  he  sighed  impatiently. 

Monsignor  Tomei's  small  eyes  became  suddenly  smaller. 

'  Am  I  to  understand  that  your  Eminence  needs  money  ? ' 
he  asked  quickly. 

The  Cardinal  nodded. 


44  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Yes,'  he  said,  ' I  need  money — and  at  once ! ' 

'But,  Eminence ' 

'At  once,  I  say!  You  understand  me,  monsignore? 
That  is  why  I  have  sent  for  you.  You  must  find  it  for 
me.  Much — everything  depends  upon  it ! ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  removed  his  hands  from  his  knees, 
and  began  to  rub  them  softly  together. 

'  If  one  might  know  the  sum,  and  your  Eminence's 
reason  for  needing  it  so  imperatively,  it  would  facilitate 
matters/  he  said  gently. 

Cardinal  Savelli  shifted  his  position  in  his  chair  and 
looked,  not  at  his  visitor,  but  at  a  painting  hanging  on  the 
opposite  wall. 

'  The  sum/  he  said  quickly,  '  is  one  hundred  thousand 
lire.  It  is  not  so  very  large  a  sum,  after  all ! ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  made  no  remark,  but  his  gaze  grew 
more  inquiring. 

f  I  require  this  money  in  order  to  replace  a  similar  sum 
lent  upon  mortgage  to  me  by  one  of  our  credit  banks/ 
continued  the  Cardinal — '  a  bank  in  which  I  am  personally 
interested/  he  added. 

Monsignor  Tomei  nodded  his  head. 

'I  understand,  Eminence/  he  replied. 

'  The  bank  finds  itself  obliged  to  call  in  the  money/ 
proceeded  Cardinal  Savelli,  'and  I  must  find  it,  mon- 
signore. Any  delay  on  my  part  would  be  unseemly,  you 
understand?  And  it  is  not  a  matter  that  I  should  wish 
talked  about.  The  Italian  press — one  has  to  be  so  careful, 
you  know.' 

'And  your  Eminence  wishes  me  to  procure  this  sum 
of  money  for  you  ? '  asked  Monsignor  Tomei. 

'  My  dear  friend,  yes ;  it  is  not  the  first  time  you  have 
assisted  me  with  your  good  advice.' 

'  It  is  not  the  first  time,  no/  Monsignor  Tomei  replied ; 
'  but  advice  costs  nothing,  whereas  what  your  Eminence 
requires  will  cost  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  and  further 
expenses.  However,  we  must  consider  what  can  be  done 
to  enable  you  to  meet  this  call  with  as  little  inconvenience 


DONNA   DIANA  45 

as  possible.  Perhaps  your  Eminence  will  allow  me  to  ex- 
amine the  papers  relating  to  this  loan?  It  would  then  be 
easier  to  judge  of  your  position  regarding  it.' 

The  Cardinal  hesitated. 

'  Oh ! '  he  replied,  i  as  to  my  position,  it  is  a  little  pecu- 
liar— indeed,  complicated.  I  am  a  trustee  and  director 
of  this  bank,  monsignore,  and  as  such — well,  in  my 
capacity ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  spread  out  his  hands  with  an  apolo- 
getic gesture. 

'  If  I  am  putting  the  case  incorrectly,  your  Eminence 
will  pardon  me  ? '  he  said.  e  You  are  in  the  position  of 
being  both  creditor  and  debtor  at  the  same  time — is  it 
not  so  ? 9 

(  That  is  precisely  it/  returned  Cardinal  Savelli  eagerly. 
'  The  exact  position/  he  added,  with  a  little  sigh  as  though 
of  relief  that  the  case  had  been  stated  for  him. 

Monsignor  Tomei7  s  eyes  contracted  until  they  looked  like 
two  glistening  black  beads. 

6 1  do  not  think  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  repeat  my 
request  that  your  Eminence  should  allow  me  to  see  the 
documents  referring  to  this  loan/  he  said  suavely.  (  The 
matter  seems  to  be  perfectly  clear.' 

The  Cardinal  looked  at  him  almost  apologetically. 

( It  is  very  simple/  he  replied.  '  I  am  responsible  for 
the  replacement  of  this  money.  The  necessity  for  repay- 
ment has  come  sooner  than  I  could  have  foreseen — at  an 
inconvenient  moment,  indeed ! ' 

'Bepayments  are  generally  inconvenient,  at  whatever 
moment  they  are  required/  murmured  Monsignor  Tomei. 

f  Per  Bacco !  if  they  are  not  inconvenient ! '  ejaculated 
Cardinal  Savelli,  with  more  levity  of  manner  than  he  had 
yet  displayed.  '  The  last  year  has  been  a  very  bad  one  for 
me,  amico  mio.  First  of  all,  the  failure  of  that  French 
house  you  know  of;  then  that  unfortunate  affair  of  Mar- 
co's; now,  this  sudden  call  upon  me  to  repay  money  which 
I  thought  I  was  perfectly  safe  in ' 

'  Making  a  temporary  use  of/  supplemented  Monsignor 


'46  DONNA   DIANA 

Tomei,  as  the  Cardinal  hesitated  for  a  moment.  e  As  your 
Eminence  says/  he  continued,  'the  year  has  been  a  bad 
one.  In  that  I  agree.  Don  Marco  Savelli's  indiscretions 
are  expensive — and  then  those  brigands  of  French;  but 
as  for  its  being  so  simple  a  matter  to  find  a  hundred  thou- 
sand francs,  there  I  do  not  agree.  It  is  a  question  of  buy- 
ing the  money,  and  the  rate  of  interest  will  be  high.  The 
security  that  your  Eminence  is  able  to  offer  is  not,  unfor- 
tunately, such  as  can  command  a  four  or  five  per  cent, 
interest.' 

The  Cardinal  moved  uneasily  in  his  chair. 

'  I  know/  he  said,  a  little  irritably ;  '  but  one  must  make 
sacrifices.  It  is  imperative.  The  money,  whatever  rate 
of  interest  may  be  demanded  for  it,  I  must  have.  We  can- 
not allow  any  doubts  to  be  cast  on  the  management  of  one 
of  our  financial  institutions,  monsignore.  Deficits  are 
things  that  must  be  confined  to  similar  organizations  con- 
ducted by  Italian  officials.  Besides,  any  delay  in  meeting 
its  liabilities  would  inevitably  lead  to  the  solvency  of  this 
bank  being  suspected;  and  you  are  very  well  aware,  mon- 
signore, how  ready  the  freemasons  and  the  anti-Catholics 
are  to  insinuate  scandals  concerning  our  undertakings/ 

'  Altro,  Eminenza ! 9  replied  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  The 
enemies  of  the  Church  are  very  unscrupulous;  and  those 
who  are,  like  yourself,  highly  placed  are  jealously  watched 
and  criticised.  A  humble  priest  such  as  I  am  has  more 
freedom  of  action  than  a  Prince  of  the  Church/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed. 

*  Precisely/  he  observed.  '  Our  enemies  lie  in  wait  for 
us  at  every  step  in  these  days.  Formerly  we 9 

'Lay  in  wait  for  them/  interposed  Monsignor  Tomei. 
'It  was  certainly  a  better  arrangement.  But,  with  your 
Eminence's  leave,  we  will  return  to  our  business.  It  will 
not  be  easy  to  procure  this  money;  nevertheless,  I  think 
that  I  could  do  so.  But,  before  borrowing  it,  a  little  re- 
flection would  be  well/ 

( Reflection ! '  repeated  the  Cardinal.  e  Caro  monsi- 
gnore, I  have  reflected  for  a  week.  I  reflected,  also,  be- 


DONNA   DIANA  47 

fore  I — borrowed  this  money  from  the  Credit  Bank.  No 
amount  of  reflection  will  do  away  with  the  fact  that  it 
must  be  repaid/ 

'  And  so,  sooner  or  later,  must  the  money  you  propose 
to  borrow  in  order  to  repay  it/  said  Monsignor  Tomei. 
6  The  latter  sum/  he  continued,  '  will,  as  I  said  just  now, 
have  to  be  repaid  with  interest.  This  interest  will,  I  should 
imagine,  be  considerably  higher  than  that  which  your 
Eminence  is  at  present  paying.' 

Cardinal  Savelli's  eyes  dropped  suddenly. 

c  No  doubt — of  course/  he  answered,  a  little  hurriedly. 

Monsignor  Tomei  pulled  out  his  snuff-box. 

'  It  is  not  good  finance/  he  observed,  taking  a  liberal 
pinch  of  the  contents. 

'  Good  finance/  said  the  Cardinal  dryly,  ( is  for  people 
with  full  pockets/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  smiled. 

c  I  venture  to  disagree,  Eminence/  he  returned.  '  Good 
finance  is  knowing  how  to  utilize  the  fulness  of  other 
people's  pockets,  without  revealing  the  emptiness  of  one's 
own.  I  am  prepared,  of  course,  to  try  to  negotiate  this 
loan,  if  your  Eminence  can  think  of  no  other  way  by  which 
the  money  you  require  can  be  raised.  Frankly,  I  do  not 
recommend  it.  It  is  but  adding  another  embarrassment 
in  the  place  of  that  with  which  you  now  have  to  contend. 
Is  there  no  possibility  of  temporizing  with  the  authorities 
of  the  bank?  Your  Eminence  has  not,  perhaps,  taken 
then  entirely  into  your  confidence.' 

'  There  is  no  question  of  temporizing/  answered  the 
Cardinal.  'You  must  understand,  monsignore,  that  it 
would  not  be  seemly  that  I  should  do  so.  The  money  is, 
in  fact,  part  of  the  reserve  capital,  that  must  be  shown 
to  be  intact  at  the  half-yearly  examination  of  the  books.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments. 

'Your  Eminence  has  other  capital  at  your  command/ 
he  observed. 

Cardinal  Savelli  shook  his  head. 

e  No/  he  said  impatiently ;  '  I  understand  your  sugges- 


48  DONNA   DIANA 

tion,  but  to  resort  to  that  is  impossible.    I  will  not  do  it, 
monsignore.' 

*  But  if  it  has  been  resorted  to  before  ? ' 

*  I  will  not  do  it/  repeated  the  Cardinal  almost  angrily. 
'  If  that  money  has  been  touched  before,  it  is  all  the  more 
necessary  not  to  touch  it  again.    Besides,  in  that  instance, 
the  reason  for  having  recourse  to  it  was  very  different — 
a  family  reason  that  justified  the  step.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  spread  out  his  hands  with  an  apolo- 
getic gesture. 

'I  quite  understand  your  Eminence's  scruples/  he  re- 
plied, 'but,  in  my  humble  position,  they  may  be  carried 
further  than  would  be  prudent.  You  recognised  the  ne- 
cessity of  applying  a  portion  of  Donna  Diana  Savelli's 
fortune  to  meet  liabilities  incurred  by  her  cousin  Don 
Marco.  In  fact,  you  employed  family  capital  to  protect 
family  honour — a  very  legitimate  use  to  make  of  it,  and 
one  that  Donna  Diana  would  doubtless  have  sanctioned 
had  she  been  in  a  position  to  do  so.' 

'  Quite  true/  said  Cardinal  Savelli ;  '  but  that  was  an 
exceptional  case.  Poor  Marco's  difficulties  did  not  arise 
from  any  fault  of  his  own.  Had  they  been  caused  by 
gambling,  or  by  women,  or  anything  of  that  nature,  I 
should  not  have  devoted  a  part  of  my  ward's  fortune  towards 
their  settlement.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  coughed  discreetly. 

'  Quite  so,  Eminence,  quite  so/  he  answered.  c  As  you 
say,  you  decided  to  use  some  of  Donna  Diana's  money  for 
family  reasons  on  that  occasion.  I  would  only  suggest  that 
this  also  might  be  regarded  as  a  family  matter.  If  Don 
Marco  is  her  cousin,  you  are  her  uncle — her  father's  only 
surviving  brother.  To  borrow  from  your  niece  a  sum  of 
a  hundred  thousand  francs — a  sum  that  for  three  years 
she  has  no  right  to  touch,  and  therefore  will  not  miss — 
is  surely  a  better  course  to  adopt  than  to  go  to  a  money- 
lender for  it.  Much  may  happen  in  three  years.  Your 
Eminence's  affairs  may  be  in  a  more  satisfactory  state 
than  is,  unfortunately,  the  case  at  present.' 


DONNA    DIANA  49 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  seat  and  paced  up  and 
clown  the  room. 

'  It  is  impossible/  he  said ;  '  I  cannot  do  it.  You  must 
think  of  some  other  way,  monsignore/ 

( I  have  already  suggested  the  other  alternative/  said 
Monsignor  Tomei.  '  It  it  that  you  should  arrange  with 
the  bank  for  a  continuance  of  the  loan/ 

'And  I/  returned  the  Cardinal  irritably,  'have  already 
told  you  that  I  do  not  intend  to  do  so.' 

'  If  your.  Eminence  would  entrust  the  matter  to  me,  I 
might  be  able  to  arrange  with  the  bank.  A  little  question 
of  additional  interest,  perhaps ' 

'  Basta,  monsignore ! '  exclaimed  Cardinal  Savelli  sud- 
denly. ( I  do  not  wish  to  hear  any  more  suggestions  on 
that  subject.  You  understand  me?  I  do  not  wish  it.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  bowed,  and  a  slightly  sarcastic  ex- 
pression came  into  his  eyes. 

e  I  have  assured  your  Eminence  already  that  I  under- 
stand— perfectly/  he  replied.  '  It  only  remains  for  me  to 
beg  you  to  consider  the  position  from  a  financial  point  of 
view.  You  have,  after  all,  asked  for  my  advice  upon  that, 
and  not  upon  questions  relating  to — to  other  subjects. 
Speaking  as  a  man  of  business,  I  should  say:  Why  borrow 
money  at  a  high  rate  of  interest  when  you  can  borrow  it 
without  paying  interest  at  all?  And  again:  Why  go  to 
strangers  when  the  affair  can  be  easily  arranged  at  home  ?  ' 

'  What  you  say  is  very  true/  replied  the  Cardinal ;  '  but 
I  do  not  like  it.  It  would  be  the  second  time,  and  the 
money  is  in  trust/ 

(  The  money  your  Eminence  borrowed  from  the  Credit 
Bank  was  equally  in  trust/  said  Monsignor  Tomei  dryly. 

( In  the  latter  case/  he  added,  '  the  money  belonged  to 
the  poor — to  workmen  and  peasant  proprietors — and  may 
be  required  at  any  moment.  In  the  former  instance  it 
belongs  to  the  rich — to  a  young  lady  who  cannot  require 
it  for  three  years/ 

( It  is  a  matter  of  borrowing  in  either  case/  said  the 
Cardinal,  a  little  eagerly. 


50  DONNA   DIANA 

'But  certainly,  Eminence,  I  look  at  it  in  this  way.  As 
trustee  for  Donna  Diana  Savelli's  capital,  you  have  a 
perfect  right  to  invest  it  in  such  a  manner  as  to  assure  a 
proper  return.  Does  it  matter  whether  the  interest  upon  it 
is  paid  by  you,  or  by  a  company  or  a  Government?  By 
employing  a  portion  of  Donna  Diana's  fortune  you  will 
be  saving  yourself  perhaps  ten  per  cent,  interest,  or  even 
more,  which  would  be  demanded  by  any  stranger  advancing 
you  such  a  sum  as  you  need.  And  yet  you  would  be  able  to 
pay  Donna  Diana  as  high  a  rate  of  interest  as  she  could 
receive  from  any  investment  in  which  you,  as  her  trustee, 
could  legally  place  her  money/ 

e  Yes ;  but  the  security  ? 9  asked  the  Cardinal. 

c  The  security/  returned  Monsignor  Tomei,  '  is  at  least 
as  good  as  that  which  your  Eminence  has  given  to  the 
Credit  Bank/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  resumed  his  seat,  and  did  not  immedi- 
ately reply. 

e  But  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to  replace  the  first  sum/ 
he  said  at  length  uneasily;  'and  now,  if  I  am  to  take  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  more ' 

'  But  your  Eminence  has  not  had  sufficient  time/  inter- 
rupted Monsignor  Tomei,  'and,  as  you  say,  things  have 
gone  badly.  These  jubilees  of  the  Holy  Father  and 
constant  pilgrimages  to  Eome — they  are  very  good  things 
for  the  soul,  si  capisce,  but  they  are  very  bad  things  for 
the  pocket — except  for  the  pocket  of  the  Pope/ 

'But,  monsignore — — '  remonstrated  the  Cardinal. 

6  It  is  true,  Eminence.  In  France,  in  Belgium — every- 
where, in  short — they  have  produced  a  miseria.  But  a 
miseria!  What  would  your  Eminence  have  ?  When  people 
give  their  money  to  the  Holy  Father,  they  will  not  give  it 
to  St.  Anthony  of  Padua,  or  even  to  the  Madonna,  and 
still  less  will  they  give  it  to  support  our  journals.  It  is 
very  natural.  They  are  sure  of  seeing  the  Pope,  but  the 
Madonna  and  the  saints  do  not  show  themselves  so  readily, 
and,  after  all,  it  is  dull  work  to  pay  one's  money  and  see 
nothing.  In  the  meantime,  Rome  eats  up  everything,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  51 

our  undertakings  abroad,,  and  even  in  other  parts  of  Italy, 
suffer,  as  your  Eminence  is  very  well  aware/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  waved  his  hand  deprecatingly. 

6  We  hear  complaints/  he  observed ;  '  but  it  is  necessary 
to  show  the  world  that  Eome  is  still  the  centre  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  Holy  City  whither  all  the  nations  of  the  earth 
repair.  If  Leo  XIII.  has  done  nothing  else,  he  has  shown, 
not  Eome  alone,  but  all  Italy,  how,  notwithstanding  the 
spoliation  of  the  Papacy  by  freemasons  and  anti-Catholics, 
the  Pope  still  wields  a  power  more  far-reaching  than  that 
of  any  other  Sovereign.  You  must  not  lose  sight  of  polit- 
ical expediency,  monsignore.  Had  the  Holy  Father  con- 
tinued the  policy  of  his  predecessor — the  policy  of  Achilles 
— Eome  would  soon  have  learned  to  live"  without  the 
Vatican,  and  not,  as  it  largely  does  at  present,  to  live 
upon  it/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  took  another  pinch  of  snuff. 

el  am  no  politician,  Eminence/  he  remarked.  (The 
regulations  of  the  Anno  Santo,  diverting  the  offerings  of 
the  faithful  from  local  shrines  and  privileged  altars  to 
Eome,  have  certainly  not  found  favour  everywhere.  But 
doubtless  the  Holy  Father  has  his  own  good  reasons.  After 
all,  money  is  safer  gathered  at  first-hand;  it  does  not  al- 
ways bear  transmission.  But,  with  regard  to  the  matter 
concerning  which  your  Eminence  has  summoned  me,  I 
should  like  to  learn  your  decision.  I  have  a  friend  who, 
perhaps,  would  advance  the  money,  but  for  a  year  only, 
and  I  fear  the  rate  of  interest  demanded  would  be  high. 
Whereas '  and  Monsignor  Tomei  paused  significantly. 

Cardinal  Savelli  moved  impatiently  in  his  chair. 

'  A  decision  implies  an  alternative/  he  said  with  a  quick 
sigh.  'I  have  none.  I  cannot  borrow  the  money  for  a 
year  only.  If  it  were  for  three  years,  it  might  be  worth 
while  to  pay  a  high  interest/ 

cAh  yes,  much  may  happen  in  three  years,  as  I  said 
before/  replied  Monsignor  Tomei.  'And  three  years, 
Eminence/  he  added,  'is  the  precise  period  for  which 
you  could  safely  employ  some  of  Donna  Diana's  fortune 


52  DONNA    DIANA 

to  enable  you  to  tide  over  your  present  difficulties.  It 
would  be  satisfactory  to  your  Eminence  to  feel  that  you 
could  not  be  called  upon  to  repay  the  money  until  the 
expiration  of  that  period/ 

'Yes,  yes,  that  is  true/  answered  the  Cardinal  hastily. 
'  Perhaps  it  would  be  the  safer  course  to  adopt.  After  all/ 
he  continued,  '  it  is  merely  borrowing  the  money.  I  should 
pay  the  legitimate  interest,  of  course,  so  that  my  niece's 
estate  would  not  suffer.  I  have  scruples,  certainly;  for 
this  unlucky  business  obliges  me  still  further  to  delay  the 
repayment  of  the  previous  sum  I  had  to  borrow  from  Donna 
Diana's  capital.  But  before  three  years  have  elapsed 
circumstances  must  alter,  monsignore.  Unfortunately,  we 
are  all  mortal,  and  in  the  natural  order  of  things  we  may 
expect  great  changes  at  any  moment/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  gave  him  a  shrewd  glance. 

'  Of  course/  he  observed,  (  at  the  Holy  Father's  advanced 
age ' 

'  Exactly/  interrupted  Cardinal  Savelli ;  '  one  must  be 
prepared.  And  I  am,  fortunately,  on  good  terms  with 
each  one  of  those  whom  the  Holy  Spirit  may  call  upon  to 
succeed  him.  But,  between  ourselves,  monsignore,  I  have 
hopes  that,  even  during  the  lifetime  of  His  Holiness,  an 
office  may  be  conferred  upon  me  which  will  bring  with  it 
some  increase  to  my  income;  but  this,  you  understand,  is 
in  strict  confidence.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  bowed,  and  looked  at  the  Cardinal 
inquiringly. 

'  The  Cardinal- Vicar/  continued  the  latter,  '  is,  as  you 
know,  not  unlikely  to  retire.  The  Eoman  clergy  are  dis- 
satisfied. Foreign  elements  have  been  introduced  among 
the  parochial  authorities  of  the  city,  and  there  has  been 
much  heart-burning  in  consequence.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  nodded. 

( We,  too,  have  our  little  camorra/  he  said,  with  a  smile. 
'And  why  not?  In  these  days  every  trade  must  protect 
itself.' 

The  Cardinal  smiled  also. 


DONNA   DIANA  53 

4  We  Romans  do  not  love  ref  orms/  he  observed,  c  unless 
they  are  carried  out  by  ourselves/ 

'  I  have  heard  your  Eminence  mentioned  as  the  Cardinal- 
Vicar's  possible  successor/  said  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  If  I 
may  be  permitted  to  say  so/  he  continued, e  such  an  appoint- 
ment would  give  great  satisfaction.  Your  Eminence,,  being 
a  Roman,  would  soon  be  able  to  remove  all  causes  of  com- 
plaint/ 

The  Cardinal  smiled — a  gratified,  deprecatory  smile. 

'  Certainly/  he  began,  '  a  Roman  is  better  able  to  under- 
stand the  temper  of  the  secular  clergy  of  this  city;'  and 
then  he  looked  quickly  and  doubtfully  at  his  visitor.  '  Ma, 
per  carita,  monsignore/  he  added  hurriedly;  'not  a  word 
to  any  other  person  of  what  I  have  told  you.  What  you 
have  heard  are  rumours,  merely  idle  rumours.  You  know 
the  jealousies,  the  intrigues,  here  in  Rome.  If  I  were  sup- 
posed to  be  talking  of  myself  as  a  fit  and  proper  successor 
to  the  present  occupant  of  the  post,  there  would  be  many 
eager  to  compromise  me  with  the  Holy  Father.' 

6  Your  Eminence  may  rely  upon  me  to  be  silent/  replied 
Monsignor  Tomei.  'I  may  conclude,  then/  he  added, 
'that  you  will  take  my  advice  to  arrange  the  settlement 
of  the  present  little  difficulty  at  home.  With  the  prospects 
before  your  Eminence,  I  think  that  my  advice  is  sound.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  chair. 

' Yes/  he  said  slowly ;  'I  see  no  better  way.  And  I 
have  no  doubt  that  I  shall  be  able  to  arrange  the  matter 
without  troubling  you  again,  monsignore.' 

The  Cardinal  extended  his  hand  as  he  uttered  the  last 
words,  and  at  the  same  time  touched  the  button  of  the 
electric  bell  at  the  side  of  his  writing-table. 

Monsignor  Tomei  bowed  as  he  took  Cardinal  Savelli's 
hand,  and  just  touched  the  ring  upon  it  with  his  lips.  The 
Cardinal  accompanied  him  to  the  door  of  the  apartment. 

'  Tell  Giovanni  he  need  not  wait  with  the  carriage/  he 
said  to  the  servant  who  had  entered  the  room  as  the  bell 
rang ;  '  I  shall  not  go  out.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  followed  the  man  to  the  entrance-hall, 


54  DONNA    DIANA 

where  he  took  up  his  hat  and  umbrella,  and,  passing  down 
the  staircase,  emerged  into  the  Via  Giulia.  Once  fairly  in 
the  open  street,  he  paused,  cleared  his  throat,  and  spat 
vigorously.  Then  he  muttered  the  single  word  '  Imbecille  ! ' 
and  walked  across  the'  Piazza,  Farnese  and  on  through  the 
Campo  dei  Fiori.  The  cowled,  bronze  figure  of  Giordano 
Bruno,  one  of  the  few  tolerable  modern  statues  erected  in 
Eome,  attracted  his  attention  for  a  moment. 

'  Poor  Giordano ! '  he  said.    ( They  burned  you  because 
you  were  an  honest  man.' 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE  short  Roman  winter  was  over.  It  was  already  the 
Holy  Week,  and  Rome  was  crowded  to  overflowing  with 
tourists  and  pilgrims  of  all  nations.  Every  afternoon 
streams  of  cabs,  carriages,  and  pedestrians  flowed  down  the 
Via  Merulana  towards  St.  John  Lateran  or  across  the 
bridges  over  the  Tiber  leading  to  the  Borgo  Vecchio  and 
the  Vatican.  The  great  basilicas  were  thronged  with  people 
listening  to  the  mournful  music  accompanying  the  office 
of  Tenebrae,  or,  as  night  drew  on,  anxious  to  witness  the 
exposition  of  the  great  relics  of  the  Passion  in  the  mys- 
terious semi-darkness  of  St.  Peter's. 

Those  who  have  the  good  sense  to  leave  the  city  at  such 
seasons,  with  its  bustling  streets  and  its  churches,  in  which 
curiosity  is  more  conspicuous  than  devotion,  and  scepticism 
more  apparent  than  faith,  and  to  wander  off  to  the  quiet 
places  of  the  Roman  Compagna,  are  gainers  in  comiort 
both  bodily  and  spiritual,  unless,  indeed,  they  belong  to 
that  large  body  which,  having  eyes,  sees  not. 

There,  away  beyond  the  city  walls,  are  being  chanted 
no  wearisome  chants  of  things  dead  or  of  doubtful  things 
to  come,  but  the  glorious  song  of  life,  triumphant,  question- 
less, of  an  ever-recurring  victory  over  death,  serenely  con- 
fident in  the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  a  Creator  in  whom 
the  human  passions  have  no  place  nor  counterpart. 

The  soft  breeze  of  spring,  fragrant  with  the  scent  of 
yellow  jonquils  and  snow-white  narcissi,  ripples  over  the 
grassy  plains  and  patches  of  growing  wheat,  bearing  with 
it  in  varying  cadences  the  song  of  innumerable  larks  or 
the  distant,  broken  notes  of  a  nightingale  trying  its  newly- 
found  voice  in  the  thickets  of  bramble  and  briar-rose  hidden 


56  DONNA   DIANA 

away  in  one  of  the  little  ravines  abounding  in  the  Eoman 
Campagna. 

Away  over  a  broad  sea  of  brightest  green  the  blue  sky 
meets  the  blue  mountains,  the  latter  flecked  with  patches 
of  white  where  the  towns  and  villages  of  the  Castelli  Ro- 
mani  nestle  among  their  spurs. 

The  melancholy  that  broods  over  the  land  in  late  autumn 
and  winter,  and  again  in  the  summer  heats,  the  spirit  of 
disillusion  and  decay  which  haunts  the  roads  to  Rome,  is 
laid  to  rest  for  a  brief  space  during  the  months  when  spring 
reigns. 

Then  the  old  gods  live  again.  Pan  peeps  from  between 
the  broad  acanthus  leaves ;  you  can  hear  his  pipes  playing, 
if  you  choose.  Fauns  and  dryads  stir  in  the  oak-woods  that 
have  escaped  the  destructive  folly  of  the  modern  possessors 
of  the  soil,  and  nymphs  sing  softly  to  themselves  in  the 
half-hidden  streams.  Apollo  still  sweeps  his  lyre.  You 
may  hear  its  tender  melody  in  the  growing  grass,  in  the 
happy  hum  of  insects,  in  the  joyous  love-notes  of  the 
birds,  if  you  have  ears  to  hear. 

Yonder  in  the  city  men  kill  their  God  in  the  spring-time, 
and  bury  him,  restoring  him  to  life  after  the  third  day. 
and  celebrate  his  resurrection,  as  they  have  celebrated  his 
birth,  by  a  larger  consumption  of  the  flesh  of  his  slain 
creatures.  But  away  from  the  haunts  of  men  God's  other 
creatures  have  never  killed  Him.  At  His  bidding  they 
have  lain  themselves  down  for  a  little  space  to  rest  and  to 
sleep,  knowing  that  in  due  season  He  would  bid  them  awake 
again  to  fulfil  their  eternal  duties  in  strength,  happiness, 
and  love. 

Edmund  Vane  and  Lino  Savelli,  having  both  agreed 
that  a  long  ride  in  the  Campagna  would  be  preferable  to 
the  streets  of  Rome  on  a  Thursday  in  Holy  Week,  had 
mounted  their  horses  outside  the  Porta  Salaria  and  ridden 
across  country  to  some  miles  beyond  Prima  Porta. 

On  the  occasion  of  his  first  visit,  Edmund  had  dutifully 
attended  the  ceremonies  of  the  Settimana  Santa,  as  was 
natural  and  fitting  for  any  Catholic  finding  himself  in 


DONISTA    DIANA  57 

Eome  at  that  season.  He  had  been  the  reverse  of.  im- 
pressed by  what  he  had  witnessed.  The  symbolic  formal- 
ities wearied  him,  while  the  irreverent  curiosity  of  the 
tourists  disgusted  him. 

Something  of  a  musician  himself,  he  could  never  listen 
to  the  famous  male  soprani  of  the  Papal  choirs  without  a 
feeling  of  impatience  and  irritation  at  the  studied  appeal 
to  the  more  superficial  senses  by  which  they  sought  to 
produce  their  effects,  a  feeling  that  developed  into  repul- 
sion whenever  he  chanced  to  look  upon  the  singers. 

The  visits  to  the  sepulchres  on  Holy  Thursday,  a  custom 
followed  by  the  large  majority  of  Romans  in  a  spirit 
neither  more  nor  less  devotional  than  that  which  moves 
many  English  families  to  eat  roast  beef  and  Yorkshire 
-pudding  on  Sundays,  had  no  particular  attraction  either 
for  Lino  Savelli  or  himself. 

They  had  cantered  for  miles  over  the  soft,  springy  turf, 
inhaling  the  pungent  scent  of  wild  thyme  crushed  beneath 
the  horses'  hoofs,  reining  up  every  now  and  then  to  look 
at  the  glorious  colours  creeping  over  the  Sabine  hills,  or 
to  listen  to  the  cuckoos  calling  to  each  other  in  the  wooded 
ridges  above  the  Tiber.  Sometimes,  too,  they  had  stopped 
to  give  the  half  of  a  Toscano  cigar  to  a  peasant,  or  to  some 
shepherd,  satyr-like,  with  nether  limbs  clad  in  shaggy  goat- 
skins, ferocious  of  aspect  yet  courteous  and  gentle  of  de- 
meanour when  not  offended,  his  good-will  more  easily  won 
by  the  gift  of  a  mozzicone,  or  cigar-end,  than  by  the  offer- 
ing of  money.  And  the  good-will  of  a  Campagna  shepherd, 
as  Edmund  had  learned  by  experience,  is  not  to  be  despised 
when  four  or  five  of  his  handsome,  snowy-white  sheep-dogs 
rush  upon  a  stranger,  unarmed,  perhaps,  save  with  a  riding- 
whip,  with  all  the  apparent  desire  to  tear  him  from  his 
saddle. 

The  sun  was  sinking  towards  the  west  when  Vane  and 
his  companion  turned  their  horses'  heads  towards  Eome. 
Leaving  the  open  country,  they  eventually  emerged  into 
the  high-road  a  mile  or  so  from  Prima  Porta. 

Lino  had  been  unusually  silent  during  their  ride,  and 


58  DONNA   DIANA 

Vane  could  not  help  thinking  that  something  had  occurred 
to  annoy  or  trouble  him.  Like  all  Romans,  he  was  grave 
sometimes;  but  though  on  rare  occasions  Edmund  had 
seen  him  display  a  very  healthy  anger,  and  had  witnessed 
a  sudden  boiling  over  of  the  hot  Roman  blood,  he  knew  that 
his  friend  was  sweet-tempered  enough,  and  that  the  ten- 
dency traditionally  ascribed  to  the  Roman  character  to 
brood  over  real  or  imaginary  wrongs  was  altogether  alien 
to  Lino's  nature. 

No  doubt,  Vane  thought,  he  was  worried  by  money 
troubles  or  by  some  little  love  affairs.  Lino  was  young, 
unusually  good-looking,  and  not  overburdened  with  this 
world's  goods,  a  combination  of  circumstances  tolerably 
certain  occasionally  to  place  both  his  purse  and  his  heart 
in  difficulties.  Unlike  many  young  fellows  of  his  class  in 
Rome,  Lino  Savelli  was  no  gambler;  but,  then,  he  was 
no  ascetic  in  other  ways  for  the  following  of  which  ready 
money  might  be  desirable.  Lino  had  his  '  passions  de 
plage '  occasionally.  As  intimate  friends,  he  and  Edmund 
had  sometimes  discussed  such  objects  together.  Vane  was 
no  stern  moralist,  nor  one  of  those  who  affect  to  ignore 
the  simple  facts  of  human  nature.  He  had  his  own 
ideas  as  to  right  and  wrong.  Not  to  injure  the  innocent 
or  to  take  advantage  of  the  poverty  of  others,  and  not  to 
wrong  the  husbands  or  lovers  of  other  women,  formed  the 
boundary  lines  of  his  morality  as  regarded  the  relation  of 
sex.  His  observation  of  Lino  Savelli,  as  well  as  the  opin- 
ions he  had  heard  him  express,  had  long  ago  convinced  him 
that  the  latter  held  similar  ideas  to  his  own  on  such  points. 
He  was  obliged  to  confess,  however,  that  in  this  respect 
Lino  differed  from  very  many  of  his  compatriots,  to  whom 
such  scruples  would  have  been  unintelligible. 

'You  are  very  silent/  Edmund  observed  with  a  smile, 
as  they  rode  quietly  along  the  road  towards  Rome.  c  Has 
anything  happened?  or  perhaps,  if  it  has,  you  don't  want 
to  talk  about  it.' 

'Oh,  nothing,3  replied  Lino — 'that  is  to  say,  nothing 
particular.  I  have  been  annoyed  at  something  my  aunt 


DONNA   DIANA  59 

San  Rocco  told  me  yesterday,  and  I  lost  my  temper  and 
made  myself  disagreeable  about  it.' 

6 1  see — family  affairs/ 

6  In  a  way,  yes.  People  have  been  making  mischief.  It 
is  a  very  favourite  employment  of  one V  relatives,  I  find, 
and  of  one's  friends/ 

Vane  laughed. 

6  That  is  the  same  everywhere/  he  remarked.  '  Relations, 
as  somebody  said,  are  disagreeable  acquaintances  inflicted 
upon  us  by  Providence.  But  it  is  no  use  losing  one's 
temper  about  what  they  say;  it  only  pleases  them/ 

Lino  looked  at  him  and  laughed. 

6  Anyhow,'  he  said,  '  I  lost  mine  yesterday,  and  gave  it 
them  all  round — on  the  head,  as  we  say  here/ 

( And  said  a  good  many  unwise  things,  I  have  no 
doubt/ 

(  Perhaps  I  did,  Eddie.  That  is  partly  what  is  troubling 
me.  I  am  not  like  you,  he  added.  '  When  I  get  in  a  rage 
out  it  must  come.  You  can  be  in  a  much  worse  rage,  you 
English,  and  yet  you  manage  to  keep  it  all  in.  I  could 
never  do  that;  I  should  burst,  I  think/ 

'  Yes/  responded  Vane,  smiling,  '  I  quite  believe  you 
would.  Fortunately/  he  continued,  '  your  rages  do  not 
occur  very  frequently.  The  last  was  when  ? — oh,  I  remem- 
ber! when  we  saw  that  fellow  beating  his  mule  over  the 
head  in  the  Via  Capo  le  Case/ 

The  blood  rushed  to  Lino's  face. 

'  I  would  have  beaten  his  brains  out — the  brute !  '  he 
exclaimed.  '  As  it  was ' 

(  Oh,  as  it  was,  you  hurt  him  considerably,  and  it  was 
lucky  you  didn't  get  a  knife  into  you/  interrupted  Edmund. 
'  I  hope  you  were  less  violent  yesterday/  he  added,  laughing. 

e  It  was  not  a  case  of  fists/  said  Lino  seriously,  '  only  of 
tongues/ 

( Ah !  they  hurt  much  more  sometimes,  and  the  bruises 
take  longer  to  heal/ 

f  That  is  just  what  I  am  afraid  of/  said  Lino.  'One  often 
does  more  harm  than  good  by  speaking  one's  mind.  It 


60  DONNA   DIANA 

was  about  Diana,  Eddie/  he  added  hastily ;  '  I  do  not  see 
why  I  should  not  tell  you.  I  told  my  uncle  San  Kocco  and 
my  aunt  that  I  thought  they  were  mad  to  encourage  Diana 
to  bury  herself  in  a  convent;  I  said  I  thought  that  when 
she  leaves  the  Sacre  Cceur,  which  she  is  to  do  almost  im- 
mediately, she  should  be  made  to  see  something  of  the 
world  before  making  up  her  mind  to  renounce  it.' 

'  And  what  did  the  Prince  say  ? '  asked  Vane. 

'  My  uncle  ?  Oh,  he  remembered  that  he  had  an  appoint- 
ment at  the  club,  and  left  the  room.  My  aunt  remained, 
and  that  old  German  woman.  We  had  a  scene.' 

f  And  what  was  the  result  ? '  inquired  Edmund,  a  little 
eagerly. 

Lino  Savelli  struck  his  boot  impatiently  with  his  riding- 
whip. 

6  What  is  the  invariable  result  of  arguing  with  women 
about  religion  ? '  he  asked.  '  Not  that  I  attempted  to  do  so,' 
he  added ;  '  but  my  aunt  refused  to  see  that  there  was  any 
other  side  of  the  question.  She  answered  all  my  objections 
by  repeatedly  declaring  that  it  was  sacrilege  to  attempt 
any  interference  with  the  vocation  of  a  soul  dedicated 
to  the  service  of  God.  At  last  I  lost  my  temper,  like  an 
idiot.' 

'  And  what  did  you  say,  Lino  ? ' 

'  I  said  it  would  be  better  to  think  less  about  Diana's 
soul,  and  allow  her  body  to  have  a  chance.  After  that 
there  was  a  row.  My  aunt  was  furious;  and  Frau  von 
Eaben  cried,  and  put  her  fingers  in  her  ears.  My  aunt 
declared  that  she  had  always  taken  my  part  with  the 
Cardinal,  and  had  tried  to  shut  her  eyes  to  my  irreligion ; 
but  that  when  Diana  returned  from  the  Sacre  Coeur  she 
would  not  have  me  in  the  house,  lest  I  should  disturb  the 
poor  child's  mind.' 

Vane  became  suddenly  grave.  The  turn  matters  had 
taken  did  not  at  all  suit  his  plans. 

e  The  Princess  will  probably  forget  it,'  he  remarked 
presently. 

'No,  she  will  not  forget  it.     There  are  those  who  will 


DONNA   DIANA  61 

take  care  not  to  allow  her  to  do  so/  said  Lino  angrily.  '  It 
is  not  her  fault/  he  added.  '  The  idea  has  been  put  into 
her  head,  as  it  has  been  into  Diana's/ 

6  But,  Lino — if  you  don't  mind  my  asking  you  the  ques- 
tion— what  made  you  get  upon  the  subject  with  Princess 
San  Rocco  ?  '  asked  Edmund. 

Lino  Savelli's  eyes  fell  suddenly,  and  he  looked  discon- 
certed. 

'  Ah,  well,  Eddie/  he  replied  hesitatingly — c  we  were 
talking  about  Diana,  you  know.  My  aunt  said  she  did  not 
wish  her  to  see  strangers,  and  I  said  I  thought  it  a  great 
mistake  not  to  let  her  see  a  few  people  outside  the  family 
circle.  That  is  how  it  all  began.  Then  we  argued,  and  I 
dare  say  I  made  remarks  I  had  better  not  have  made.' 

Vane  looked  at  him  searchingly.  A  new  light  was  begin- 
ning to  dawn  upon  him,  and  he  suspected  that  Lino  had 
not  told  him  by  any  means  all  that  had  passed.  If  his 
suspicions  were  correct,  Edmund  felt  that  his  friend's 
preoccupied  manner  was  fully  to  be  accounted  for.  Since 
the  night  of  the  New  Year  he  had  only  twice  seen  Donna 
Diana  Savelli.  On  one  occasion  he  had  accompanied  Lino 
to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  on  a  Thursday  afternoon  that 
happened  also  to  be  a  saint's  day.  They  had  immediately 
been  admitted  by  the  servants  waiting  in  the  anticamera, 
and  in  one  of  the  drawing-rooms  had  found  Donna  Diana 
alone  with  her  two  cousins.  Lino  had  presented  Edmund 
to  Diana,  and  they  had  talked  together  for  some  little  time 
without  the  least  shyness  or  embarrassment — at  least,  on 
the  girl's  part. 

The  interview  had  been  interrupted  by  the  Princess 
returning  to  the  room,  and  almost  immediately  afterwards 
the  latter  had  said  something  in  a  low  voice  to  her  niece, 
who  at  once  left  it.  This  meeting  had  made  a  very  distinct 
impression  on  Vane's  mind,  namely,  that  Donna  Diana 
was  not  entirety  destitute  of  a  will  of  her  own. 

He  had  detected  a  little  passage  of  arms  between  the 
cousins  as  he  and  Lino  unexpectedly  entered  the  room. 
He  saw  Donna  Diana's  brown  eyes  flash  with  a  look  of 


62  DONNA   DIANA 

determination,  and  noticed,  also,  a  decided  shake  of  her 
head  in  reply  to  something  whispered  to  her  by  Donna 
Maria,  the  younger  of  the  Princess's  daughters.  It  was 
evident  that  she  did  not  mean  to  be  sent  away,  and  that 
she  meant  Lino  to  present  his  English  friend  to  her.  Some- 
how the  little  display  of  petulancy,  slight  though  it  was, 
afforded  Edmund  a  strange  satisfaction. 

On  one  occasion,  also,  he  had  dined  in  Diana's  company 
at  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco.  It  was  Lino's  birthday,  and 
Vane  had  been  invited  to  join  the  family  dinner  in  his 
honour.  He  had  sat  far  away  from  Donna  Diana,  at  the 
opposite  side  of  the  table.  That  evening,  though  he  had 
scarcely  any  opportunity  of  conversing  with  her,  Edmund 
finally  awoke  to  the  fact  that  he  had  fallen  very  decidedly 
in  love.  More  discreet  than  he  had  been  on  the  first  occa- 
sion of  their  meeting,  he  endeavoured  not  to  allow  his  gaze 
to  wander  too  frequently  in  Donna  Diana's  direction; 
yet,  do  what  he  would,  he  was  unable  to  keep  his  eyes  from 
resting  sometimes  upon  her.  He  would  like  to  have 
watched  every  gesture,  to  have  followed  every  movement 
of  the  beautiful  high-bred  head,  every  expression  passing 
over  that  lovely  face  set  in  its  wealth  of  dark,  chestnut 
hair.  More  than  once,  as  he  looked  across  the  dinner- 
table,  it  was  to  meet  Marco  Savelli's  gaze  fixed  upon 
him  suspiciously.  He  felt  that  the  latter  was  watching 
him  jealously,  and  that  for  some  reason  or. other -Marco 
resented  his  presence.  The  feeling  that  he  was  being 
watched  aroused  in  Edmund  a  feeling  of  impatience,  and 
eventually  of  irritation.  He  looked  steadily  at  Marco  for 
a  moment  or  two — a  look  of  quiet  surprise — whereat  the 
latter  instantly  withdrew  his  gaze  and  began  a  conver- 
sation with  his  neighbor. 

The  recollection  of  these  little  episodes  flashed  through 
Vane's  mind  as  he  listened  to  Lino's  words.  He  felt  con- 
vinced that,  although  delicacy  might  prevent  his  com- 
panion from  saying  so,  he  had  himself  been  the  cause  of 
the  discussion  at  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  that  Lino  had 
partly  related. 


DONNA   DIANA  63 

i 

It  was  not  an  easy  matter,  however,  to  induce  Lino  to 
speak  more  openly.  He  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the 
latter  had  any  suspicion  as  to  the  state  of  his  feelings 
towards  his  cousin  Diana.  Moreover,  if,  after  all,  he  were 
not  really  regarded  by  the  Princess  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  as  a  dangerous  element,  and  his  suspicions  were 
but  the  result  of  a  guilty  conscience,  he  might  place  both 
Donna  Diana  and  himself  in  a  false  position  by  attempting 
to  make  it  easy  for  Lino  to  speak  to  him  on  the  subject. 

They  rode  on  for  a  few  minutes  in  silence.  Once  or 
twice  Lino  seemed  as  if  he  were  about  to  renew  the  con- 
versation, and  then  he  checked  himself.  Usually  he  was 
at  no  loss  for  words,  and  was  apt— at  least,  when  talking 
to  Vane — to  say  all  that  might  come  into  his  head.  Ed- 
mund felt  that  he  had  said  enough,  however,  to  enable  him 
to  tastare  il  terreno,  as  Lino  would  have  expressed  it  in 
his  own  tongue. 

f  It  appears  to  me,  my  dear  fellow/  he  observed  quietly, 
c  that,  if  the  Princess  objects  to  your  cousin  seeing  stran- 
gers, she  cannot  like  my  visits.  Whenever  I  have  happened 
to  meet  Donna  Diana  at  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  I  have 
certainly  been  the  only  stranger  there.' 

Lino  lighted  a  cigarette  and  puffed  at  it  for  a  moment 
or  two  before  answering. 

( Yes/  he  replied  simply,  e  you  have.  I  suppose  you  are 
almost  the  only  young  man  outside  her  own  family  to 
whom  Diana  has  ever  spoken  since  she  was  a  child/ 

'  And  the  Princess,  as  I  say,  objects/  said  Vane.  '  Yet/ 
he  added,  '  I  cannot  flatter  myself  that  I  am  a  very  dan- 
gerous person,  Lino.  Donna  Diana  has  probably  never 
given  me  an  instant's  consideration.' 

'  That  is  not  the  question/  said  Lino  dryly. 

6  Then,  what  is  the  question  ? 9 

c  Oh,'  well/  began  Lino  doubtfully,  ( the  question  is, 
that  the  world  is  -full  of  infernal  busybodies ! '  he  con- 
cluded, breaking  out  into  sudden  rage. 

'  Certainly/  responded  Edmund  calmly ;  '  but  in  this 
case  who  are  they,  and  what  are  they  busy  about  ? ' 


64  DONNA   DIANA 

'  If  you  want  to  know,  they  are  my  uncle  the  Cardinal 
in  the  first  instance — one  may  excuse  him,  for,  after  all, 
he  is  a  priest — and  my  brother,  who  should  have  been  a 
priest;  and  in  the  next  instance  that  old  spy  of  a  German 
my  aunt  has  in  the  house/ 

6 1  understand/  said  Vane.  (  They  object  to  my  coming 
to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  lest  I  should  see  too  much  of 
Donna  Diana.  Is  it  not  so,  Lino?  You  need  not  mind 
telling  me  the  truth/ 

'  I  don't  suppose  it  would  make  very  much  difference 
to  you  if  you  did  give  up  going  to  the  Palazzo  San  Bocco/ 
replied  Lino. 

Vane  did  not  answer,  and  the  other  looked  at  him 
keenly. 

'Would  it?'  he  repeated. 

Edmund  gave  an  embarrassed  laugh. 

'  I  don't  quite  know ;  it  depends/  he  answered. 

'  And  upon  what,  Eddie  ? 9 

Vane  hesitated  for  a  moment;  then  he  rode  straight  at 
his  fence. 

'  It  depends/  he  said  quietly,  '  upon  your  cousin,  Donna 
Diana.' 

Lino  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  burst 
out  laughing. 

'  The  pious  people  were  right,  then ! '  he  exclaimed. 
'  Oh,  but  it  is  curious  how  much  they  know  of  our  earthly 
passions.  That  old  German — trust  a  religious  old  maid 
for  scenting  out  love ! '  Then  he  became  suddenly  grave 
again.  'But  is  it  really  true,  Eddie,  what  you  are  say- 
ing? You  are  not  joking?  It  depends  upon  Diana,  you 
say?' 

'  I'm  afraid  so,  Lino.     It  is  ridiculous,  of  course.' 

'  Yes ;  love  is  generally  ridiculous — at  least,  it  is  better 
as  a  comedy  than  as  a  tragedy.' 

Vane  felt  as  though  the  warm  April  air  had  grown 
suddenly  chill,  and  he  shivered  a  little. 

c  But  what  could  they  know  ? '  he  asked  hastily.  '  Noth- 
ing from  Donna  Diana,  certainly.  How  should  they?' 


DONNA   DIANA  65 

( Nothing  from  Diana — no!  How  should  they  indeed! 
Poor  child!  she  does  not  know  what  love  means — yet. 
And  when  she  does  know — well,  I  am  not  sure  what  the 
result  will  be/ 

(  Comedy  or  tragedy  ? '  said  Edmund,  forcing  himself  to 
speak  lightly. 

Lino  glanced  at  him. 

6  They  are  very  near  neighbours  in  this  Italy  of  ours/ 
he  replied,  '  and  love  often  brings  them  nearer  still.  I  do 
not  know  what  to  say,  Eddie.  I  am  glad  for  your  sake 
and  for  Diana's;  at  least,  I  should  be  glad  if  everything 
could  go  well  and  smoothly.  Diana  would  make  any  man 
happy  who  knew  how  to  be  worthy  of  her;  and  you — I 
know  you  are  worthy  of  any  woman's  love.  Dio  mio ! ' 
he  continued  in  Italian,  'they  should  be  thankful  to  see 
the  girl  so  well  married.  But,  once  these  signori  della 
Mesa  get  hold  of  the  women  of  a  family,  there  is  no 
knowing  what  folly  may  happen ;  and  then  comedy  may  be 
turned  into  tragedy,  for  the  exaltation  of  our  Holy  Mother 
the  Church.' 

Lino  spoke  bitterly  enough;  but  Edmund  had  been  suf- 
ficiently long  in  Italy  to  realize  that  men  might  speak 
bitterly  against  the  Church  and  yet  not  be  anti-Catholic, 
and  that  it  was  the  body  political  and  social  Italians 
like  Lino  Savelli  detested,  and  by  no  means  invariably  the 
body  spiritual. 

6  Listen,  Lino ! '  he  said  after  a  pause,  edging  his  horse 
closer  to  that  of  his  companion.  ( I  have  told  you  how 
it  is  with  me,  and  I  am  not  going  to  say  anything  more 
about  my  own  feelings.  We  English  do  not  gush  about 
those  things,  except  in  novels  or  on  the  stage;  neither,  I 
think,  do  you  Eomans,  for  that  matter.  I  have  come 
across  a  good  many  women  in  my  day,  and  with  some  of 
them  I  have  been  in  love — you  know  the  kind  of  love — 
but  I  have  never  seen  any  woman  yet  whom  I  wished  for 
as  a  wife  until  I  saw  your  cousin.  I  can't  analyze  the 
feeling,  but  it  is  there.  At  the  same  time  I  know,  of 
course,  that  Donna  Diana  is  quite  unconscious  of  having 


66  DONNA   DIANA 

produced  it,  and  could  not  understand  or  reciprocate  it 
even  were  she  not  so.  I  am  not  at  all  sure,  moreover, 
that  I  wish  to  awaken  such  feelings  in  her/ 

'  And  why  not  ?  ?  asked  Lino. 

6  Because  by  doing  so  I  might  bring  unhappiness  to  her. 
She  is  contented  now  and  happy,  confident  that  the 
world  holds  no  fairer  destiny  for  her  than  the  one  she  has 
chosen.  Have  I  any  right  to  thrust  myself  into  her  life, 
and  to  attempt  to  alter  her  choice?' 

Lino  Savelli  held  up  his  hand. 

'  One  moment,  Eddie/  he  said.  '  Are  you  sure  that 
choice  has  been  given  to  her?  I,  for  my  part,  am  certain 
that  it  has  not.  Otherwise  I  might  answer  you  that  you 
had  no  right  to  seek  to  unsettle  her  decision,  though 
cloistered  monks  and  nuns  alike  are  to  me  an  anachronism, 
and  the  fewer  there  are  in  a  country,  the  better  for  the 
progress  of  'that  country.  Diana  has  had  no  choice,  I  tell 
you,  and  never  will  have  any — unless  you  give  it  to  her ! ' 

'  But  why  ?  '  exclaimed  Vane. 

*  I  do  not  know — I  never  have  known/  replied  Lino. 
< "  Diana  means  to  be  a  nun  " — that  is  what  we  have  heard 
for  some  time  now,  ever  since  she  went  to  the  Sacre  Cceur. 
I  suppose  I  was  so  accustomed  to  hear  it  that  I  grew  to 
regard  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  When  I  returned  from 
Africa  it  was  told  me  as  a  settled  thing.  I  expostulated 
at  first,  as  I  have  told  you,  but  nobody  paid  any  attention 
to  the  ideas  of  a  cavalry  soldier  on  such  subjects.' 

'But  latterly  you  have  expostulated  again/  said  Ed- 
mund. '  What  made  you  do  so  after  having  accepted  the 
situation  for  so  long?' 

Lino  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

'  Why/  he  replied,  '  I  suppose  I  may  tell  you  now.  I 
imagined  that  you  admired  Diana  very  much.  You  have 
asked  me  a  good  many  questions  about  her,  if  you  re- 
member. I  confess  I  suspected  that  you  had  fallen  in 
love  with  her,  and  it  seems  I  was  not  mistaken.' 

'  And  so  you  thought  you  would  try  to  fight  my  battle 
for  me  ? '  said  Edmund.  '  That  was  like  you,  Lino.' 


DONNA   DIANA  67 

*  I  thought  I  would  try  to  reason  with  my  aunt/ 
answered  Lino.  '  I  have  never .  said  a  word  to  Diana.  I 
could  not  speak  plainly  enough  to  her  to  make  her  under- 
stand; and,  besides,  I  was  not  sure  of  your  sentiments. 
But  I  soon  found  that  others  had  noticed  your  admira- 
tion— with  no  very  great  pleasure,  I  am  afraid/ 

(  And  I  suppose  the  Princess  told  you  that  she  did  not 
want  you  to  bring  me  to  the  house  any  more  ? ?  said  Vane. 

tf  Yes — not  on  any  occasion  when  Diana  was  likely  to 
be  there.  That  was  what  made  me  angry.  I  am  afraid 
I  did  your  cause  more  harm  than  good,  and  my  aunt 
declared  that  you  must  have  confided  to  me  your  love  for 
Diana.  Luckily,  I  was  able  to  assure  her  that  you  had 
never  even  hinted  at  such  a  thing  to  me,  and  she  believed 
me.  That  is  what  has  been  worrying  me — the  feeling 
that  I  may  have  given  you  away.  Now,  I  do  not  see  what 
is  to  be  done,  for  you  and  Diana  will  certainly  not-  be 
allowed  to  meet  again/ 

'  It  would  not  be  of  much  use  if  we  did  meet/  said 
Vane  gloomily. 

e  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  Eddie.  You  would  have  to 
be  very  patient,  and  approach  her  very  gradually;  but  in 
the  end  I  believe  her  nature  would  triumph  over  these 
morbid  fancies  that  have  been  instilled  into  her/ 

1 1  wonder  why  your  brother  dislikes  me  so  much  ? ' 
said  Edmund  abruptly. 

Lino  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

( If  he  does/  he  observed,  '  I  should  say  it  was  because 
you  were  so  interfering  as  to  save  my  life.  He  would 
have  had  more  money  had  I  died  in  Abyssinia/ 

Vane  glanced  at  him.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had 
heard  Lino  express  an  opinion  about  his  brother. 

'  Marco  lives  upon  the  Cardinal/  continued  Lino,  '  and 
other  people  live  upon  Marco;  your  friend  the  Countess 
Verini,  for  instance,  is  supposed  to  have  got  a  good  deal 
out  of  him.  My  uncle  has  paid  his  debts  more  than  once, 
I  believe.  His  Eminence  is  under  the  impression  that 
Marco  is  unlucky  on  the  Bourse.  It  is  not  my  business 


68  DONNA   DIANA 

to  undeceive  him.  But  why  do  you  think  he  dislikes  you, 
Eddie?  You  never  told  me  that  before.' 

'  Why  should  I  have  told  you  ?  It  does  not  matter  very 
much.' 

( You  think  not  ? '  said  Lino.  '  I  wish  I  could  agree 
with  you.  Marco  has  great  influence  with  the  Cardinal, 
and  if  the  latter  chose  to  favour  your  suit  with  Diana  we 
should  hear  very  little  more  of  her  vocation  for  religion. 
How  your  affair  is  to  be  furthered  God  only  knows!  It 
is  no  use  disguising  the  fact  that  you  will  encounter 
powerful  influences  fighting  against  you.' 

'  The  most  powerful  influence  will  probably  be  that  of 
Donna  Diana  herself/  said  Vane.  '  Love  and  marriage 
are  not  things  that  have  entered  into  her  little  world. 
It  is  absurd,  Lino/  he  added,  '  a  silly  dream  of  mine  upon 
which  I  should  never  have  allowed  my  mind  to  dwell. 
You  had  better  forget  that  we  ever  discussed  the  matter, 

and  I  will  try  to  forget  also.  And  yet '  He  broke 

off  with  a  little  sigh. 

'  Fiano ! '  ejaculated  Lino.  <  Let  us  look  at  the  affair 
quietly.  There  is  no  reason  to  be  in  a  hurry.  In  the  first 
place,  are  you  sure  that  you  are  in  love  with  Diana  ? ' 

c  Oh,  very  sure,  and  equally  so  that  she  is  never  likely 
to  be  in  love  with  me.' 

'  A  mere  detail,  that  last.' 

'  A  detail,  you  call  it  ? ' 

'  Certainly.  She  has  got  to  be  shown  that  there  is  a 
possibility  of  her  being  in  love,  with  you  or  with  some  other 
man — it  does  not  particularly  matter  with  whom.  No, 
you  need  not  be  offended,  Eddie,  I  am  talking  quite 
good  sense,  for  a  wonder.  She  must  be  made  to  think, 
not  of  spiritual  lovers,  but  of  lovers  of  flesh  and 
blood.' 

'You  look  upon  Diana  as  scarcely  more  than  a  child, 
but  you  forget -that  she  will  soon  be  eighteen,  and  at  that 
age  our  girls  are  already  women.' 

'  She  must  be  made  to  think,  I  tell  you,  to  wonder,  until 
a  little  curiosity  to  explore  this  unknown  thing  called 


DONNA    DIANA  69 

love  comes  to  her.  After  that  we  shall  see.  Diana  will 
be  very  different  from  the  women  of  her  race  if  she  stops 
half  way  in  her  explorations.  Of  course,,  if  you  can  be 
the  man  to  arouse  this  curiosity  in  her,  so  much  the 
better.' 

'But  how  can  I  be  that  man?' 

Lino  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two. 

( I  think  it  depends  very  much  upon  yourself/  he  said 
presently. 

6  How  do  you  mean  ? '  asked  Vane. 

'  Well,  do  not  be  angry  if  I  put  things  crudely.  It  de- 
pends whether  you  are  merely  attracted  by  Diana's  beauty 
or  whether  there  is  some  deeper  and  more  durable  attrac- 
tion. Considering  that  you  have  had  so  little  opportunity 
of  knowing  her,  it  seems  to  me  to  be  doubtful.  I  am  not 
a  believer  in  love  at  first  sight.  In  passion,  yes,  if  you 
like,  but,  my  dear  Eddie,  in  this  case  passion  won't  pull 
you  through  the  difficulties  you  will  have  to  face  in  order 
to  procure  its  satisfaction.' 

6 1  see,'  replied  Vane ;  '  you  want  to  be  sure  that  I  am 
enough  in  earnest  to  warrant  my  striving  to  obtain  your 
cousin's  love.  Well,  being  human,  it  would  be  absurd  to 
deny  that  I  was  attracted  in  the  first  instance  by  her 
beauty;  but  I  was  also  attracted  by  the  singularity  of  her 
position.  That  position  seemed  to  me  to  be  unnatural, 
unjust.  Then  another  feeling  took  possession  of  me,  and 
it  has  never  left  me.  It  is  a  longing  to  possess  the  right 
to  give  Donna  Diana  everything  of  which  I  believe  that 
she  will  be  unjustly  deprived  if  she  is  encouraged  in  re- 
nouncing the  world  when  she  is  ignorant  of  what  the  world 
may  contain  for  her.  Perhaps  this  feeling  has  supplied 
the  place  of  a  closer  acquaintance  with  your  cousin;  at 
any  rate,  it  has  satisfactorily  proved  to  me  that  she  has 
some  deeper  attraction  for  me  than  the  material  attraction 
of  her  beauty,  though  that  may  be  powerful  enough.' 

Lino  Savelli  held  out  his  hand. 

'  If  it  is  like  that  with  you,'  he  said,  '  I  will  do  all  I 
can  to  help  you,  Eddie.  I  have  always  wished  that  some 


70  DONNA   DIANA 

man  would  come  forward  to  save  Diana  from  herself  and 
from  those  who  are  influencing  her  mind,  but  I  little 
thought  that  man  would  be  yourself.  If  it  had  been  other- 
wise with  you,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  should  have  helped 
you.  I  think  I  should  have  told  you  to  look  elsewhere, 
for  your  own  sake,  as  well  as  for  Diana's/ 

Edmund  Vane  grasped  his  hand  for  a  moment.  He  felt 
that  it  was  a  compact  between  them,  and  that  Lino  would 
do  all  in  his  power  to  assist  his  cause,  if  only  out  of  re- 
membrance for  what  he  (Edmund)  had  done  for  him  in 
the  past. 

'  Thank  you,  Lino/  he  said  simply.  '  Evidently,  you  do 
not  regard  it  as  a  very  hopeful  business/  he  added  with  a 
slight  laugh,  the  latter  prompted  by  a  very  English  desire 
to  avoid  anything  approaching  sentimentality. 

'  It  will  not  be  easy/  replied  Lino.  '  You  must  re- 
member that,  as  I  think  I  once  told  you,  the  Cardinal 
is  Diana's  guardian.  He  might  resign  her  dot  to  a  con- 
vent, but  I  doubt  his  being  willing  to  do  so  to  a  hus- 
band/ 

'  I  don't  care  a  damn  about  her  dot  I '  said  Vane  ener- 
getically. 

Lino  laughed. 

'  I  don't  suppose  you  do/  he  replied.  '  If  you  had  been 
one  of  us,  you  would  have  cared  about  it  very  much,  and 
you  would  probably  have  retired  from  your  position  direct- 
ly you  suspected  any  difficulty  in  its  forthcoming.  That 
is  a  powerful  weapon  in  the  Cardinal's  hands.  He  has 
absolute  control  over  Diana's  fortune  until  she  is  one-and- 
twenty,  and  he  knows  well  enough  that  he  would  only  have 
to  raise  difficulties  in  order  to  scare  away  any  Italian 
suitor  who  might  take  a  fancy  to  her.  Unluckily,  Marco 
knows  it  also.' 

'Your  brother?  But  what  has  he  to  do  with  it?' 
asked  Vane. 

e  I  don't  know,  Eddie ;  but  that  is  one  of  the  things 
we  shall  have  to  find  out.  You  and  I  will  have  to  be 
quite  open  with  one  another  in  this  business.  Hitherto, 


DONNA   DIANA  71 

whatever  I  may  have  thought  about  it,  I  have  kept  to  my- 
self, for  the  sake  of  the  family.  You  have  wondered  why 
a  girl  like  Diana  should  have  been  allowed  to  develop 
such  strong  religious  ideas  at  her  age.  I  have  wondered 
also,  the  more  so  because  Diana  and  I  used  to  play  to- 
gether when  she  was  a  child  and  I  was  a  boy.  It  did 
not  take  me  long  to  understand  that  it  was  better  to  keep 
my  surprise  to  myself,  and  not  attempt  to  account  for 
things  that  were  no  business  of  mine/ 

'I  dare  say  you  were  right/  said  Edmund.  'I  do  not 
understand  all  the  intricacies  of  family  life  in  your 
country/ 

'  No,  that  is  just  it.  You  do  not  understand.  For  that 
matter  we  do  not  always  understand  them  ourselves;  for 
strange  elements  often  enter  in  upon  them,  producing 
strange  results.  In  my  country,  Eddie,  one  of  these 
elements  goes  by  the  name  of  religion.  It  is  occasionally 
made  to  serve  many  purposes,  some  of  which  are  certainly 
very  good — but  others  of  which  are  very  base.' 

Vane  looked  at  him  earnestly. 

'  I  do  not  like  to  ask  you  what  you  mean  to  imply/  he 
said  after  a  pause. 

(  No,  do  not  ask  me  yet.  When  I  am  able  to  give  you  a 
definite  answer,  I  will  do  so.  In  the  meantime  avoid  the 
Palazzo  San  Eocco.  Diana  will  be  there  for  Easter,  and 
she  will  not  return  to  the  Sacre  Cceur — that  I  know.  How 
long  it  may  be  before  she  enters  upon  her  novitiate  I  do 
not  know  as  yet.  You  must  trust  to  me  for  a  little  while 
'to  do  what  I  can  for  you.' 

Edmund  nodded. 

'  Of  course/  he  replied. 

And  Lino,  without  saying  anything  more,  made  his 
horse  break  into  a  trot. 

The  sun  was  setting  as  they  mounted  the  hill  above  Tor 
di  Quinto  and  looked  down  on  the  lower  part  of  Eome. 
The  cupola  of  St.  Peter's,  purple-black,  stood  out  against 
a  background,  flame-coloured,  and  shot  here  and  there 
with  broad  rays  as  of  molten  gold.  Neither  Vane  nor 


72  DONNA    DIANA 

his  companion  spoke  much  until  they  reached  the  Porta 
del  Popolo,  where  they  had  directed  a  groom  to  await 
them  and  lead  the  horses  home,  riding  within  the  gates 
of  the  city  being  both  disagreeable  and  unsafe  on  account 
of  the  worn  pavements,  that  are  often  slippery  as  glass 
when  any  moisture  is  in  the  air. 


CHAPTER   VII 

'THE  sacrifice  of  God/  said  Cardinal  Savelli,  'is  a  pure 
spirit/ 

Princess  San  Rocco  sighed. 

'  I  know,  Camillo/  she  replied.  '  Of  course,  we  must 
not  presume  to  interfere  with  His  ways,  but ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  his  sister  with  some  surprise. 

( You  are  regretting  the  world  for  Diana  ? '  he  asked  in- 
credulously. '  I  should  have  thought,  Vittoria,  that  you 
would  be  thankful  to  feel  she  was  preserved  from  it.' 

'But  I  am  thankful/  replied  Princess  San  Rocco;  'I 
would  not  have  it  otherwise.  Only,  one  cannot  help  won- 
dering you  "know,  what  the  world  might  have  had  in  store 
for  the  child.' 

The  Cardinal  waved  his  hand  a  little  impatiently. 

'  We  know  what  the  world  has  in  store  for  each  of  us/ 
he  said.  e  A  few  joys,  perhaps,  and  a  great  many  troubles 
and  temptations.  Diana  will  have  joys,  too,  and  peace, 
which  is  the  fulness  of  joy.  Do  you  not  suppose  that  God 
knows  better  than  we  can  know  what  He  is  shielding  her 
from  by  calling  upon  her  to  give  up  the  world  ? ' 

'  Quite  true/  observed  the  Princess.  '  Of  course,  I  see 
it  all  in  the  same  light  as  you  do.  But  lately  I  have  had 
some  misgivings.  Fabrizio ' 

'  What  has  Fabrizio  been  saying  ? '  asked  the  Cardinal. 

'He  never  says  very  much,  you  know,  but  I  can  see  he 
feels  that  Diana  should  see  something  of  the  world  before 
beginning  her  novitiate.  I  don't  agree  with  him,  of 
course;  but,  you  see,  Camillo,  other  people  might  think 
the  same  thing.  They  cannot  know  how  different  Diana 
is  from  other  girls  of  her  age,  or  understand  that  she  has 
no  desire  except  to  enter  religion.5 

73 


74  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Fabrizio ! '  repeated  Cardinal  Savelli  somewhat  scorn- 
fully. 6 1  do  not  think  you  need  pay  much  heed  to  what 
he  says  on  such  subjects,'  he  added,  with  a  smile. 

'  I  never  do/  said  the  Princess  tranquilly.  '  But  lat- 
terly he  has  recurred  to  the  question  several  times.  I 
really  think  he  is  not  quite  easy  in  his  mind  about  it.  He 
is  fond  of  Diana,  you  know — and  of  Lino.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  frowned. 

( Ah,  Lino ! 9  he  observed,  looking  at  his  sister  inquir- 
ingly. '  He,  of  course,  would  be  on  the  side  of  the  world. 
I  hope  that  Fabrizio  has  not  been  discussing  the  matter 
with  Lino,  Vittpria?' 

'  Not  that  I  am  aware  of.  But  Lino  discussed  it  with 
me  a  few  days  ago/ 

<Ah!' 

'  He  is,  as  you  say,  on  the  side  of  the  world.  He  thinks 
that  Diana  should  know  something  of  what  she  is  giving 
up/ 

The  Cardinal  rose  from  his  chair,  and  began  to  pace  up 
and  down  the  room. 

'  Of  course,  he  is  against  his  religion,'  he  said  irritably. 
*  What  could  you  expect,  after  the  life  he  has  led  ?  Do 
you  suppose  that  I  should  countenance  Diana  taking  this 
step  if  I  were  not  convinced  that  she  is  one  of  those  whom 
God  has  marked  out  for  His  service  ? ' 

Princess  San  Eocco  was  silent.  If  Cardinal  Savelli  was 
her  brother,  he  was  also  a  Prince  of  the  Church,  and  she 
would  scarcely  have  thought  of  arguing  with  him. 

'  There  is  another  thing  I  wish  to  ask  you  about/  con- 
tinued the  Cardinal.  cThis  English  friend  of  Lino's — 
I  hear  he  has  often  visited  you,  and  that  you  made  him 
acquainted  with  Diana.  That  was  not  wise,  Vittoria.  If 
the  child  is  to  pursue  her  vocation,  the  less  she  sees  of 
strange  men  the  better.' 

'  I  did  not  make  them  acquainted/  replied  the  Princess. 
'Lino  introduced  him  to  Diana.  I  was  vexed,  for  I  had 
noticed  that  Mr.  Vane  admired  her;  and  it  is  useless  to 
encourage  anything  of  the  kind  as  far  as  she  is  concerned. 


DONNA   DIANA  75 

But  you  know  that  he  is  a  Catholic,  Camillo,  so,  of  course, 
I  took  care  to  let  him  know  all  about  Diana  as  soon  as 
I  saw  he  was  interested  in  her.' 

'  They  are  often  terribly  independent,  the  English  Cath- 
olics/ said  Cardinal  Savelli,  with  a  sigh.  '  We  have  to  be 
very  gentle  with  them,  or  we  should  frighten  away  the 
converts.  But  let  us  hope  that  no  mischief  has  been  done. 
You  will  not  have  him  in  the  house,  of  course,  while  Diana 
is  here  ? ' 

'  Oh,  I  have  arranged  for  that/  answered  the  Princess. 
f  I  told  Lino  quite  plainly  that  I  did  not  wish  it.  He  was 
very  angry;  but,  at  least,  he  will  have  understood  that  I 
cannot  allow  him  to  bring  Mr.  Vane  until  Diana  leaves  us/ 

'  Quite  right,  it  would  be  most  undesirable/  said  the 
Cardinal.  '  I  should  like  to  see  Diana/  he  continued. 
'  She  is  in  the  house,  I  conclude  ? ' 

'  I  will  send  for  her/  replied  Princess  San  Eocco ;  and, 
ringing  the  bell,  she  told  a  servant  to  let  Donna  Diana 
know  that  the  Cardinal  wished  to  see  her.  '  She  will  be 
with  Frau  von  Eaben/  she  added. 

'  An  excellent  woman ! '  observed  the  Cardinal. 

'  Ah  yes ! '  assented  the  Princess.  ( It  is  such  a  com- 
fort to  have  Frau  von  Eaben  in  the  house — a  woman  who 
has  known  the  world,  too.  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  Mr. 
Vane  and  Diana  having  much  opportunity  of  talking  to 
each  other  while  she  is  about.  She  hates  him/ 

'Yes?'  asked  Cardinal  Savelli. 

'  Certainly.  It  was  she  who  warned  me  to  be  on  my 
guard  against  him.  She  overheard  Giulia  and  Maria  say- 
ing to  one  another  that  Lino's  English  friend  could  not 
take  his  eyes  off  Diana.' 

6  She  said  as  much  to  Marco/  observed  the  Cardinal. 
'  It  is  very  useful  to  have  a  trustworthy  woman  like  Frau 
von  Eaben  about  where  there  are  young  people.  And 
Marco,  too !  I  do  not  know  what  I  should  do  without 
Marco,  Vittoria.  I  always  say  that  through  him  I  know 
what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  and  what  people  are  say- 
ing.' 


76  DONNA   DIANA 

Princess  San  Rocco  was  about  to  reply,  when  the  door 
opened  and  her  niece  came  into  the  room. 

Diana  Savelli  advanced  slowly  and  almost  timidly 
towards  her  uncle,  and  dropped  him  a  little  curtsey  as 
she  kissed  his  hand.  She  was  very  simply  dressed  in 
white,  which  colour  showed  off  the  warm,  rich  tint  of  her 
complexion. 

As  she  walked  down  the  long  drawing-room  the  Prin- 
cess thought  she  had  never  seen  the  girl  look  more  beauti- 
ful. Young  as  she  was,  there  was  a  certain  dignity  in 
her  movements  that  would  have  become  a  matron.  Her 
small  head  was  carried  erect  enough,  though  it  was  evi- 
dent that  she  was  nervous  at  being  thus  unexpectedly 
summoned  to  an  interview  with  the  Cardinal. 

The  latter  started  slightly  as  she  approached  him.  It 
was  some  time  since  he  had  seen  Diana,  and  it  struck  him 
that  there  was  more  of  the  woman  in  her,  and  less  of  the 
young  girl  whom  he  had  last  visited  at  the  Sacre  Cceur. 

He  patted  her  head  in  a  fatherly  manner,  and  motioned 
to  her  to  sit  down  near  him. 

Princess  San  Rocco  rose  from  her  chair. 

'  I  will  leave  you  and  Diana  to  have  a  little  talk,'  she 
said,  glancing  at  her  brother,  '  and  will  rejoin  you  pres- 
ently.' 

There  was  a  pause  after  she  had  left  the  room.  Diana 
looked  out  of  the  window  when  she  could  see  the  swifts 
wheeling  about  in  the  blue  sky  and  hear  their  shrill 
screams  as  they  chased  each  other  round  and  round  the 
roof-tops  of  the  old  palace.  She  loved  them,  and  always 
felt  glad  when  she  first  heard  their  cries  in  the  early  days 
of  April,  proclaiming  that  the  winter  was  over  and  gone, 
and  that  spring  had  really  come. 

Cardinal  Savelli  sat  silently  playing  with  the  golden 
chain  hanging  round  his  neck,  to  which  was  attached  a 
jewelled  cross  half  concealed  in  the  folds  of  his  scarlet 
sash. 

Every  now  and  then  his  eyes  rested  on  his  niece,  and  he 
would  look  away  with  a  slight  sigh. 


DONNA   DIANA  77 

'  So,  my  child/  he  said  at  length,  '  your  days  in  the 
Sacre  Coeur  are  over.  I  dare  say  you  regret  them.' 

(  Yes/  replied  Diana  simply.  '  I  was  very  happy  there. 
Now  it  seems  strange  to  think  that  I  shall  never  go  back. 
I  think  I  would  like  to  have  remained  there  always,  uncle/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  smiled  indulgently. 

'  You  should  be  very  thankful,  figlia  mia/  he  said,  '  that 
the  good  God  has  given  you  such  a  spirit.  It  is  not  every 
girl  who  knows  where  to  look  for  true  happiness — for  that 
peace  which  is  not  of  this  world.  And  you  are  still  stead- 
fast in  your  determination,  Diana?  You  wish  sincerely 
and  honestly  to  enter  a  religious  life  ? ' 

'  I  have  never  thought  of  anything  else/  answered  Diana 
softly. 

'  Bene,  bene ! '  said  the  Cardinal  approvingly.  '  It  is  a 
glorious  vocation,  my  child,  and  your  words  make  me  very 
happy.  But  I  would  not  have  you  take  any  such  step 
without  earnest  consideration.  You  are  almost  a  woman 
now,  and—well,  we  have  every  one  of  us  to  struggle  with 
our  human  nature,  more  especially  when  we  are  young. 
Have  you  ever  thought  of  all  that  God  will  require  you 
to  give  up  for  His  sake,  Diana?' 

Diana  looked  at  him  a  little  wonderingly. 

'  But  I  have  nothing  to  give  up/  she  said.  '  I  have  often 
wished  I  had  something  that  I  could  give  up;  because 
then,  you  know,  I  should  feel  more  worthy.  Of  course 
I  shall  be  sorry  not  to  see  my  uncle  San  Eocco  and  my 
aunt  any  more — or,  at  least,  so  rarely — and  Lino,  too. 
But  otherwise  it  will  not  be  very  different  from  the  life 
I  have  always  led,  will  it?' 

'No,  no/  replied  the  Cardinal  heartily,  'it  will  not  be 
very  different.  But,  Diana,  there  are  other  things  in  life 
than  our  affection  for  our  family.  Have  you  ever  thought 
why  it  is  that  all  men  and  women  have  not  a  vocation  for 
conventual  life?  why  people  marry  each  other,  and  have 
children  whom  they  love  ? ' 

Diana  fixed  her  large  brown  eyes  on  his  face,  and  Car- 
dinal Savelli  averted  his  own  quickly. 


78  DONNA   DIANA 

e  I  suppose/  she  said  slowly,  '  that  they  love  each  other. 
I  have  read  of  that  sometimes.  The  Madonna  loved 
St.  Joseph,  did  she  not,  uncle?' 

(  Oh,  undoubtedly ! '  said  the  Cardinal. 

( But  then  she  loved  her  Son  more,'  continued  Diana 
quietly.  '  That  is  what  Frau  von  Kaben  and  Madame 
de  Bonneval  at  the  Sacre  Coeur  have  always  explained  to 
me.  We  have  Him  to  love,  and  the  saints.  There  would 
be  no  room  in  our  hearts  for  anybody  else  if  we  really 
loved  them  and  knew  that  they  really  loved  us.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  hesitated. 

6  But  that  is  spiritual  love,'  he  said.  ( It  is  not  the  love 
that  makes  men  and  women  want  to  marry  each  other. 
Has  Frau  von  Eaben  never  spoken  to  you  of  this  last, 
Diana,  or  Madame  de  Bonneval?' 

6  Oh  yes,'  answered  Diana  carelessly.  '  But  I  do  not 
see  that  it  matters.  Madame  de  Bonneval  has  never  spoken 
much  about  it,  but  Frau  von  Eaben  frequently  does  so. 
She  has  often  told  me  that  I  should  regard  myself  as  a 
bride  when  I  come  to  take  the  veil — that  I  should  find  all 
the  happiness  people  find  in  marriage,  and  none  of  the 
cares  and  troubles.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rubbed  his  hands  quietly  together  and 
did  not  speak  for  a  moment  or  two. 

'And  your  aunt?'  he  said  presently.  'What  does  she 
tell  you  ? ' 

c  Aunt  Vittoria  ?  '    and  Diana  paused  hesitatingly. 

'  What  does  your  Aunt  Vittoria  tell  you  ? '  repeated  the 
Cardinal.' 

(  Well,'  replied  Diana  with  a  little  smile,  ( you  see,  uncle, 
she  never  remembers  that  I  am  no  longer  a  child — I  am  so 
much  younger,  of  course,  than  Giulia  and  Maria  that  I 
suppose  it  is  natural.  So  I  have  never  liked  to  say  any- 
thing to  her.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  his  niece  narrowly. 

'  You  have  never  liked  to  say  anything? '  he  interrupted. 
'  Then,  there  is  something  you  feel  you  would  like  to  ask 
her,  Diana  ? ' 


DONNA   DIANA  79 

The  girl  blushed  a  little. 

'  Oh,  they  are  silly  things/  she  replied  hastily.  '  But 
sometimes  I  hear  my  cousins  talking  to  each  other — and 
some  of  the  girls  at  the  Sacre  Cceur,  too — and  I  do  not 
know  what  they  mean.  I  never  feel  I  can  ask  Aunt  Vit- 
toria;  but  Frau  von  Eaben  told  me  that  I  might  always 
ask  her  if  I  heard  anything  about — about  things  I  did  not 
understand.' 

The  Cardinal  passed  his  hand  across  his  eyes  and  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  while  a  slight  sigh  escaped  him. 

1  Quite  right,  my  child — quite  right/  he  said  gently: 
'  Frau  von  Raben  will  always  give  you  good  advice ;  I  am 
sure  of  that.' 

Then,  as  though  a  sudden  thought  had  struck  him,  he 
leaned  forward  and  looked  at  her  again. 

'But  Lino — he  has  never  talked  to  you  of  anything  of 
the  kind,  Diana  ?  ' 

Diana  smiled. 

'  Lino  is  like  Aunt  Vittoria/  she  replied.  '  He  always 
treats  me  as  a  child — at  least,  he  has  always  done  so  until 
lately.  But  Marco— 

(  Marco ! '  exclaimed  the  Cardinal. 

c  Oh;  it  was  my  fault,  uncle.  I  should  have  got  up  and 
shown  myself,  but  I  hid  myself  for  fun.' 

'  I  don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about,  Diana/  said 
Cardinal  Savelli  somewhat  severely.  (  What  did  Marco  say 
to  you?' 

'  He  was  talking  to  Giulia  and  Maria/  answered  Diana. 
( It  was  some  weeks  ago — here,  in  this  room.  They  did 
not  know  I  was  sitting  in  one  of  the  windows ;  they  could 
not  see  me  on  account  of  the  curtain.' 

'Yes?' 

<  And  they  began  to  talk  about  me ;   and  Giulia  laughed 
and  told  Marco — 

<  Go  on,  my  child/  said  the  Cardinal,  as  Diana  stopped 
abruptly. 

'It  was  very  silly/  continued  the  latter,  blushing,  'but 
Giulia  said  that  Mr.  Vane — Lino's  friend,  you  know — 


80  DONNA   DIANA 

never  looked  at  anybody  but  me  when  I  was  in  the  room. 
Marco  was  very  angry,  and  said  horrid  things  about  Mr. 
Vane,  and  about  Lino  also.  Then  I  was  angry,  for  it  was 
a  great  shame  to  abuse  Lino  and  Mr.  Vane  behind  their 
backs,  and  I  came  out  into  the  room  and  told  Marco  so/ 

Diana  rose  and  stood  in  front  of  the  Cardinal.  She 
tapped  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  floor,  and  her  eyes 
flashed  with  a  light  certainly  not  generated  by  meekness. 

'  It  was  a  great  shame  of  Marco/  she  repeated.  '  Don't 
you  think  so,  uncle?  Lino  was  not  there  to  defend  him- 
self, and ' 

'  Hush,  Diana ! '  said  Cardinal  Savelli,  a  little  taken 
aback  at  this  sudden  outburst.  '  Marco  was  quite  right  to 
be  annoyed  at  Giulia's  silly  remark.  No  doubt  he  was 
hasty,  and  angry  with  Lino  for  bringing  a  foreigner  here 
who  seems  to  have  forgotten  his  good  manners.  But 
Mr. — Vane — is  English,  you  know;  and  the  English  do 
not  understand  our  customs.  Indeed,  they  cannot  under- 
stand any  customs  but  their  own,  so  we  must  make  allow- 
ances for  their  stupidity.  But  what  did  Marco  say  to 
you?' 

'A  great  many  things/  replied  Diana,  relapsing  into 
calmness.  e  I  have  forgotten  most  of  them.' 

'  Meglio  cosi ! '  said  the  Cardinal ;  '  you  need  not  try  to 
remember  them.  Keep  your  thoughts  fixed  upon  the  holy 
life  which  Almighty  God,  in  His  care  for  you,  has  willed 
that  you  should  choose,  figlia  mia.  All  other  thoughts  are 
idleness.  Pray,  meditate,  examine  yourself  closely,  in  or- 
der that,  when  the  time  comes,  you  may  be  fitted  to  receive 
the  embraces  of  the  spiritual  lover  who  is  awaiting  you. 
Remember  that  everything  you  possess — your  intelligence, 
your  beauty,  your  very  being — comes  from  Him ;  and  then, 
if  you  remember  this,  it  will  be  your  joy  and  your  pride 
to  feel  that  you  are  going  to  give  them  back  to  Him  intact, 
spotless,  as  you  have  received  them/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  as  he  spoke  these  last  words,  and 
Diana  kneeled  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  her  head.  A  ray 
of  sunshine  streamed  through  the  window  beside  them.  It 


DONNA   DIANA  81 

fell  upon  Diana's  hair,  turning  its  glossy  chestnut  tints 
into  a  mass  of  burnished  gold,  in  the  midst  of  which 
flashed  and  glittered  the  diamonds  of  the  Cardinal's  ring, 
the  emerald  set  in  the  centre  of  which  gleamed  like  the 
green  eye  of  a  snake. 

e  God  bless  you,  my  child ! '  said  Cardinal  Savelli  some- 
what hastily.  '  Go  and  tell  your  aunt  that  our  little  talk 
is  over,  and  ask  her  to  come  to  me,  as  I  must  be  going 
home.' 

Making  a  slight  curtsey,  Diana  turned  and  went  slowly 
from  the  room,  leaving  the  Cardinal  standing  by  the  win- 
dow, out  of  which  he  gazed  abstractedly. 

'  It  is  extraordinary/  he  said  to  himself,  as  she  disap- 
peared behind  a  heavy  silken  portiere,  '  marvellous,  how 
pure  the  human  mind  can  be  when  it  is  shielded  from  the 
inroads  of  human  passions ! '  And  yet  as  he  spoke  he 
sighed. 

He  had  been  anxious  to  test  the  effects  of  the  mental 
training  that  his  niece  had  received ;  and  while  in  one  sense 
the  result  was  satisfactory,  Cardinal  Savelli  felt  almost 
startled  by  it. 

A  vague  feeling  of  uneasiness  took  possession  of  him — 
uneasiness  mingled  with  a  sense  of  regret  for  which,  as 
a  Churchman,  he  could  hardly  account.  That  the  few 
months  which  had  elapsed  since  he  had  last  seen  Diana 
should  have  wrought  such  a  marked  development  in  her 
struck  him  with  a  surprise  that  was  almost  painful.  To 
divert  the  channel  of  a  slender  stream  was  comparatively 
a  simple  matter;  but  to  restrain  the  course  of  a  flowing 
river  might  prove  to  be  another  affair  altogether.  It  was 
in  vain  Cardinal  Savelli  argued  to  himself  that  Diana  had 
the  vocation  for  religion.  Her  very  presence  seemed  to  be 
a  contradiction,  a  silent  but  damning  proof  of  the  impo- 
tency  of  such  an  argument. 

Cardinal  Savelli  asked  of  himself  somewhat  impatiently 
why  God  made  such  women,  and  the  answer  was  not  at  all 
satisfactory. 

He  might  have  asked  himself  a  parallel  question  a  hun- 


83  DONNA   DIANA 

dred  times  a  day,  when  he  looked  out  of  his  carriage  win- 
dow at  the  bands  of  able-bodied  young  men  walking  two 
and  two  through  the  streets  of  Rome,,  clad  in  their  semi- 
narist's dress,  their  pallid  countenances  often  expressive 
of  a  weariness  both  mental  and  moral. 

But  Cardinal  Savelli  was  no  sociologist,  and  it  never  en- 
tered his  head  to  ask  any  questions  of  the  kind. 

In  the  midst  of  his  reflections  his  sister  re-entered  the 
drawing-room. 

6  Diana  told  me  you  were  going/  she  said.  '  I  hope  your 
conversation  with  her  has  been  satisfactory,  Camillo/ 

6  Yes/  answered  the  Cardinal,  '  in  so  far  as  I  am  satis- 
fied that  her  mind  has  not  been  unsettled  in  any  way,  and 
that  she  has  never  perceived  this  Englishman's  interest 
in  her/ 

( I  was  sure  she  had  not/  observed  the  Princess. 

'  Nevertheless/  continued  Cardinal  Savelli,  '  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  from  her  that  she  has  overheard  some  talk  about 
it,  and  Marco  appears  to  have  been  indiscreet  with  her. 
It  would  have  been  wiser  to  ignore  it,  but  I  do  not  think 
she  has  allowed  herself  to  dwell  upon  it.  It  is  extraor- 
dinary, Vittoria,  what  a  great  vocation  Diana  has!  One 
would  say  that  the  Madonna  had  interposed  to  prevent  all 
worldly  instincts  from  gaining  any  footing  in  her  mind.' 

'  I  think  that  Frau  von  Raben's  influence  has  been  won- 
derful/ remarked  Princess  San  Rocco. 

The  Cardinal's  eyelids  quivered  slightly,  and  the  faint- 
est suspicion  of  a  smile  hovered  about  the  corners  of  his 
mouth. 

'  Oh,  undoubtedly ! '  he  replied ;  '  Frau  von  Raben  has 
been  an  instrument;  but  we  must  not  forget  that  Diana 
is  a  "  Child  of  Mary,"  and  as  such  we  may  believe  has  been 
specially  protected/ 

'  Of  course/  said  the  Princess  hurriedly.  '  I  did  not 
mean  to  imply  any  ingratitude  towards  the  Madonna,  Ca- 
millo.  Probably  we  owe  it  to  her  that  Frau  von  Raben  is 
so  faithful  to  us,  and  that  she  is  such  a  holy  woman.  But 
before  you  go  I  wanted  to  ask  you  what  has  been  settled 


DONNA   DIANA  83 

about  Diana  entering  upon  her  novitiate.  It  will  not  be 
advisable  to  keep  her  here  too  long.  Of  course  I  am  very 
careful ;  but  one  can  never  be  quite  sure  what  a  young  girl 
may  not  see  or  hear  in  a  city  like  Eome.  Then,  it  is  dif- 
ficult to  arrange  about  her  going  out.  I  do  not  like  her  to 
walk  in  the  streets  with  Frau  von  Eaben  even  in  the  early 
morning.  She  is  so  stared  at,  and  Frau  von  Eaben  de- 
clares that  one  day  last  week  a  man  followed  them,  and 
looked  very  significantly  at  her — at  Diana,  I  mean.  I 
can't  always  spare  the  carriage,  you  know,  as  I  have 
so  often  to  take  Giulia  and  Maria  to  pay  calls  in  the 
afternoons/ 

( Where  do  you  send  her  to  walk  ? '  asked  the  Cardinal. 

'Well,  latterly  I  have  taken  to  sending  her  to  the  gar- 
dens of  the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo.  They  are  so  large  that 
she  can  get  plenty  of  exercise;  and,  of  course,  with  old 
Princess  Castelnuovo  she  is  perfectly  safe.  The  Princess 
is  very  kind ;  she  begged  me  to  send  Diana  there  whenever 
I  liked  to  do  so.' 

(  An  excellent  plan  ! 9  observed  Cardinal  Savelli. 

'  I  have  been  in  correspondence  with  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior of  a  convent  in  Florence/  he  continued.  '  Diana  can 
go  there  early  in  the  autumn,  but  not  before.  You  might 
send  her  and  Frau  von  Eaben  to  Magnano  early  in  June, 
might  you  not?  It  would  be  better  for  every  reason  than 
keeping  her  in  Eome  till  you  go  there  yourselves,  which 
you  will  not  do  till  after  St.  Peter's  Day,  I  suppose.  In 
any  case,  I  will  let  you  know  as  soon  as  I  have  been  able 
to  make  some  definite  arrangements  with  the  Eeverend 
Mother.  Of  course,  you  will  not  have  that  Englishman 
in  the  house  again  while  Diana  is  here;  and,  Yittoria, 
I  fear  that  Lino  is  not  a  very  good  companion  for  her. 
The  two  young  men  are  great  friends,  you  know,  and  there 
might  be  some  collusion  between  them/ 

'You  need  not  be  afraid/  said  the  Princess.  'I  shall 
not  receive  Mr.  Vane  if  he  calls.  It  is  very  easy  to  say 
that  I  am  out;  and,  of  course,  now  Easter  is  over,  I  have 
given  up  my  day  for  receiving.  As  for  Lino,  I  will  take 


84  DONNA   DIANA 

care  that   he   and   Diana   shall   not   see   much   of   each 
other/ 

*  For  the  present/  said  Cardinal  Savelli,  '  that  will  be 
the  wiser  course.    We  should  not  be  justified  in  exposing 
Diana  to  any  disturbing  influences  on  the  eve  of  her  novi- 
tiate.    Naturally,  should  she  change  her  mind  during  its 
period,  it  will  be  quite  a  different  matter.     She  is  abso- 
lutely free  to  do  so,  and  no  power  can  make  her  take  the 
final  vows  against  her  own  free  will.' 

'  Of  course  not/  said  the  Princess. 

*  Three  years  are  time  enough  to  decide  whether  her  voca- 
tion is  really  such  as  we  believe  it  to  be/  added  Cardinal 
Savelli.     '  Should  doubts  arise  in  her  mind  during  that 
time,  there  would  be  nothing  to  prevent  her  from  coming 
out  of  the  convent  and  mixing  with  the  world.' 

*  That  is  just  what  I  say,  Camillo/  said  the  Princess. 
( Lino  insists  that  Diana  ought  to  mix  with  the  world  now, 
and  Fabrizio,  I  believe,  half  agrees  with  him.     But  it  is 
quite  absurd ! ' 

'It  would  be  very  wrong/  returned  Cardinal  Savelli. 
'  Deliberately  to  disturb  the  wonderful  peace  of  mind 
which  has  been  given  to  Diana — that  blessing  of  pureness 
of  spirit — by  exposing  it  to  worldly  influences,  would  be 
a  grievous  crime.  We  dare  not  offend  one  of  Christ's  little 
ones,  and  surely  Diana  is  as  a  child  in  His  eyes,  and  He  is 
calling  her.  If  He  finds  the  path  that  she  has  chosen 
too  hard  a  one  to  follow  to  the  end,  He  will  bid  her 
choose  another.  But  we  have  no  right  to  interfere,  Vit- 
toria.' 

The  Cardinal  walked  towards  the  door  as  he  uttered 
these  words,  and  Princess  San  Rocco  accompanied  him 
through  the  long  suite  of  rooms  to  the  anticamera,  on  the 
threshold  of  which  she  took  leave  of  him. 

Cardinal  Savelli's  servant  was  in  waiting,  and  attended 
him  down  the  great  staircase  to  his  carriage,  which  was 
standing  in  the  courtyard  below,  and  in  which  he  was 
driven  back  to  his  residence  in  the  Via  Giulia. 

The  carriage  had  hardly  passed  through  the  portone  of 


DONNA   DIANA  85 

the  Palazzo  San  Eocco  and  out  into  the  streets,  when  the 
Cardinal  drew  out  his  Breviary,  unconscious  of  the  cu- 
rious glances  of  the  passers-by  as  he  drove  through  the 
narrow  vicoli.  His  lips  moved  rapidly  as  he  recited  his 
office,  and  his  red-gloved  hand  occasionally  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross  on  his  breast. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

DIANA  SAVELLI,  on  leaving  the  Cardinal's  presence,  found 
Frau  von  Raben  waiting  for  her  in  Princess  San  Rocco' s 
sitting-room,  a  small  apartment  situated  at  the  end  of  the 
long  suite  of  rooms,  and  furnished  somewhat  more  in  ac- 
cordance with  modern  ideas  of  comfort  than  the  latter. 
The  Palazzo" San  Rocco,  indeed,  was  one  of  the  old  Roman 
palaces  into  which  few  foreign  innovations  had  made  their 
way.  In  the  vast  reception-rooms  everything  was  on  a  scale 
of  stately  discomfort.  Although  there  had  been  a  fort- 
night of  beautiful  April  weather,  the  warm,  balmy  air 
from  without  had  not  yet  penetrated  the  interior  of  the 
massive  block  of  buildings,  and  the  atmosphere  of  the 
rooms  was  chilly  and  depressing.  The  rich  silks  with 
which  the  walls  were  hung,  the  beautiful  cinquecento  cabi- 
nets and  heavily  gilded  furniture,  the  fine  paintings  and 
pieces  of  antique  sculpture,  seemed  to  increase  rather  than 
diminish  the  sense  of  a  want  of  the  creature  comforts  by 
which  such  possessions  would  have  been  accompanied  in 
Northern  countries.  In  the  Princess's  own  sitting-room, 
however,  there  was  less  ostentation,  and  it  contained  such 
luxuries  as  an  open  fireplace,  a  few  modern  arm-chairs 
and  sofas,  and  at.  least  one  table  on  which  there  were  books. 
Of  flowers  or  plants  not  a  trace  was  to  be  seen,  Princess 
San  Rocco  being  a  believer  in  the  old  Italian  tradition  of 
flowers  in  living-rooms  not  being  healthy.  It  must  by  no 
means  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  interior  of  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  was  a  fair  specimen  of  the  mode  of  inhabiting 
a  Roman  palace  in  the  present  day.  It  represented,  rather, 
a  type  rapidly  vanishing  before  the  influences  of  foreign 
ideas,  the  modern  Romans  having  learned  from  the  Ameri- 
cans, English,  French,  and  Russian  tenants  of  their  medie- 


DONXA    DIANA  87 

val  homes  how  to  combine  magnificence  with  luxury  and 
comfort  in  every-day  life.  In  Casa  San  Eocco,  owing  more 
to  the  traditions  in  which  the  Princess  had  been  brought  up 
than  to  any  conservative  instincts  on  the  part  of  the  Prince, 
the  ways  of  the  foreigner  were  scorned.  Xo  American  or 
English  nouveaux  riches  had  ever  rented  the  piano  nobile 
of  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco,  and  by  means  of  their  dollars 
— and  their  cook — taken  Eoman  society  by  storm,  nor  had 
any  foreign  Government  ever  temporarily  acquired  it  as  an 
Embassy. 

The  spirit  of  modernity  still  occasionally  finds  a  closed 
door  in  Eome,  and  the  daily  life  of  fifty,  or  even  a  hun- 
dred, years  ago  is  yet  being  led  in  a  few  grim  palaces  lying 
half  forgotten  in  the  old  quarters  of  the  Italian  capital. 

As  Diana  Savelli  had  been  only  eight  years  old  when 
her  parents  died  and  she  went  to  live  with  her  uncle  and 
aunt  in  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco,  she  had  grown  up,  as  it 
were,  in  the  shadow  of  the  past.  No  children's  balls  and 
parties  had  enlivened  her  youthful  days,  for  the  Princess 
did  not  approve  of  such  things.  The  little  festivals  that 
occurred  at  rare  intervals  during  the  year — the  celebra- 
tion of  name-days,  Christmas,  or  the  Befana,  when  the 
streets  about  the  Palazzo  San  Bocco  resounded  hideously 
with  the  shrill  blasts  of  horns  and  penny  trumpets,  and 
when  the  crowds  flocked  to  see  the  children  preaching  in 
the  church  of  the  Ara  Coeli — were  festivals  observed  in 
the  strict  privacy  of  the  family  circle.  On  most  children 
so  isolated  an  existence  would  have  impressed  its  mark. 
It  had  done  so,  indeed,  in  the  case  of  the  Princess's  two 
daughters,  Donna  Giulia  and  Donna  Maria  Petrucci. 

Diana's  two  cousins,  both  some  years  older  than  herself, 
had  developed  into  listless,  apathetic  young  women  who 
viewed  with  little  sympathy  her  natural  vivacity  and  high 
spirits  which  not  even  the  atmosphere  of  the  Palazzo  San 
Eocco  had  been  able  entirely  to  suppress.  In  common  with 
many  high-spirited  people,  Diana  Savelli  was  given  to 
occasional  fits  of  dreaminess  and  abstraction,  and  these 
had  visited  her  more  frequently  as  she  grew  older. 


88  DONNA   DIANA 

temperament,  indeed,  was  very  similar  to  that  of  her  fa- 
vourite cousin,  Lino.  But  in  his  case  an  active  life  had 
modified  these  introspective  tendencies,  while  Diana's  sur- 
roundings had,  on  the  contrary,  persistently  encouraged 
them.  Even  in  the  Sacre  Cceur  she  had  found  herself 
environed  by  an  atmosphere  more  serious  and,  in  a  sense, 
mystical  than  that  in  which  the  majority  of  her  com- 
panions moved.  In  the  Convent  on  the  Trinita  dei  Monti, 
as  in  the  Palazzo  San  Kocco,  it  had  speedily  become  an  un- 
derstood thing  that  Diana  Savelli  was  going  to  be  a  nun ; 
and  she  was  left  to  consort  with  one  or  two  other  girls 
who,  like  herself,  were  known  to  have  a  vocation  to 
religion. 

Of  the  ladies  at  the  Sacre  Cceur,  Madame  de  Bonneval, 
of  whom  she  had  spoken  to  the  Cardinal,  was  her  favour- 
ite and  especial  friend — so  far  as  any  friendship  was  per- 
mitted to  exist  between  one  of  the  ladies  and  a  pupil. 
Madame  de  Bonneval  was  a  woman  of  between  thirty  and 
forty,  ill-favoured  externally,  but  more  than  compensated 
therefor  by  a  singular  charm  of  disposition,  and  a  certain 
generous  breadth  of  mind  more  frequently  to  be  found 
among  those  who  have  sought  a  refuge  from  the  world  in 
religion  than  among  those  unable  to  leave  religion  behind 
them  when  in  the  world. 

Diana  found  her  aunt  engaged  in  conversation  with 
Frau  von  Raben  when  she  entered  her  sitting-room  in 
order  to  give  her  the  Cardinal's  message.  Frau  von  Raben 
was  speaking  in  her  Teutonic  Italian,  which  she  talked 
fluently  and  dramatically,  though  her  d's  became  i' s,  and 
her  b's  turned  into  p's  after  the  manner  of  her  nation 
when  pronouncing  the  Italian  tongue.  She  stopped  ab- 
ruptly as  Diana  came  into  the  room,  but  not  before  the 
latter's  quick  ears  caught  the  sound  of  her  own  name. 
The  Princess  looked  at  her  niece  somewhat  curiously;  but 
Diana,  though  grave,  was  quiet  and  self-possessed,  and  did 
not  appear  at  all  disturbed  by  her  interview  with  Cardinal 
Savelli. 

'  So/  said  Frau  von  Raben,  when  the  Princess  had  left 


DONNA  'DIANA  89 

them  together,  '  you  have  been  talking  with  his  Eminence, 
Diana.  And  what  did  he  say  to  you  ? ' 

'  He  wanted  to  know  if  I  still  intended  to  be  a  nun,' 
said  Diana.  (I  don't  know  why  he  should  think  that  I 
had  changed  my  mind  since  he  last  saw  me/ 

e  And  what  else  did  he  want  to  know  ? '  pursued  Frau 
von  Raben. 

'  Oh,  whether  I  had  thought  well  what  it  meant,  and  if  I 
were  sure  that  I  had  overcome  my  earthly  nature  suf- 
ficiently. I  never  heard  my  uncle  talk  as  he  did  just  now,' 
proceeded  Diana.  'He  seemed  as  if  he  wanted  to  say  a 
great  deal  more,  but  was  afraid  to  do  so.' 

Frau  von  Raben  drew  her  chair  nearer  to  Diana. 

( What  do  you  think  he  wanted  to  say  ? '  she  asked. 

Diana  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

'  He  asked  me  if  I  had  ever  thought  why  people  marry 
each  other,'  she  said  presently. 

Frau  von  Raben  gave  a  very  perceptible  start  of  aston- 
ishment. 

*  Herr  Gott ! '  she  exclaimed  in  her  native  language, 
under  her  breath.  '  What  do  you  mean,  Diana  ? '  she 
continued. 

.  '  Well,  just  that,'  answered  Diana  tranquilly.  c  I  don't 
know  why  he  asked  me.  As  I  shall  never  be  married,  I 
don't  see  that  it  matters  whether  I  have  thought  about  it 
or  not.' 

'Ah,  but  it  does  matter,'  said  Frau  von  Raben  hastily. 
'  The  Cardinal  wished  to  ask  you  whether  you  allowed  your 
mind  to  dwell  upon  certain  things — whether  your  thoughts 
were  pure.' 

Diana  interrupted  her  a  little  impatiently. 

'  One's  thoughts  are  one's  own,'  she  said,  '  and  you  have 
often  told  me,  Frau  von  Raben,  that  I  should  think  of 
Christ  as  if  He  were  to  be  my  bridegroom.' 

Frau  von  Raben  pursed  up  her  lips. 

f  Yes/  she  replied ;  '  but  that  is  a  kind  of  spiritual  love, 
you  know.  Not  but  what,  in  a  truly  devout  mind,  it  may 
become  so  intensified  as  to  be  almost  physical — but  this 


90  DOXNA   DIANA 

is  the  effect  of  the  mind  on  the  body.  To  arrive  at  such 
a  blessed  state,  to  enjoy  spiritual  delights  keener  than 
any  bodily  ones,  the  natural  longing  after  material  love 
must  be  utilized.  Your  uncle,  no  doubt,  wished  to  ascer- 
tain the  exact  state  of  your  mind,  Diana.' 

Frau  von  Eaben  looked  at  the  girl  inquisitively  as  she 
uttered  this  last  remark.  Diana  drew  a  little  away  from 
her.  She  had  always  had  an  instinctive  dislike  of  Frau 
von  Eaben  for  which  she  was  unable  to  account.  This 
dislike  had  rather  increased  than  otherwise  since  she  had 
left  the  Sacre  C'ceur  and  had  been  in  daily  contact  with 
her  cousins'  dame  de  compagnie.  She  compared  her  with 
Madame  de  Bonneval,  and  wondered  why  it  was  that  the 
latter  always  inspired  her  with  a  sense  of  protective  good- 
ness, while  Frau  von  Eaben,  with  all  her  apparent  kind- 
ness and  high  religious  ideals,  gave  her  an  indefinable  con- 
sciousness of  evil. 

'  Did  the  Cardinal  ask  you  any  more  questions  ? '  con- 
tinued Frau  von  Eaben,  as  Diana  kept  silence. 

6  He  said  that  if  I  was  troubled  with  anything  that  I 
did  not  understand,  I  was  to  ask  you,'  said  Diana  hesitat- 
ingly. She  felt  disinclined  to  tell  Frau  von  Eaben  what 
had  passed  between  her  uncle  and  herself  on  the  subject  of 
Mr.  Vane. 

'Yes,  of  course/  responded  Frau  von  Eaben,  a  little 
eagerly.  '  You  must  confide  in  me,  Diana.  I  have  always 
told  you  so.  You  must  not  be  afraid  that  I  shall  not  un- 
derstand you,  or  that  I  should  be  shocked  at  anything 
you  might  have  to  tell  me.  I  have  been  young  myself, 
you  know,  and  not  so  very  long  ago  as  to  make  me  forget 
how  strong  the  passions  of  youth  can  be.  Of  course,  I 
have  never  been  married ;  but  that  does  not  make  any  dif- 
ference, as  you  will  find  out  when  you  grow  older.' 

Diana  looked  at  her.  There  was  the  same  expression, 
half  inquiring,  half  incredulous,  and  wholly  innocent,  in 
her  brown  eyes  that  had  caused  Cardinal  Savelli  to  look 
away  with  a  sigh  as  he  met  it.  Frau  von  Eaben  looked 
away  too,  but  she  did  not  sigh. 


DONNA   DIANA  91 

'It  is  very  old/  said  Diana  slowly.  'I  do  not  under- 
stand what  it  is  that  you  are  all  afraid  of.  You  have  talked 
so.  often  to  me  during  these  last  months  of  all  kinds  of 
mysterious  feelings  which  I  don't  feel.  I  asked  Madame 
de  Bonneval  about  Hhem,  and  what  you  meant/ 

'And  what  did  Madame  de  Bonneval  say?'  inquired 
Frau  von  Eaben. 

'  Oh,  she  laughed,  and  told  me  not  to  trouble  myself 
about  trifles.  She  said  that  God  knew  what  He  was  doing 
when  He  made  men  and  women,  and  that  He  would  show 
me  what  was  the  best  for  me/ 

Frau  von  Eaben  frowned. 

'  She  probably  does  not  understand/  she  said.  '  Per- 
haps she  has  never  had  any  of  these  temptations  to  ma- 
terial love ;  or,  if  she  has  had  them,  she  has  forgotten  them. 
Besides,  Madame  de  Bonneval  is  very  ugly/ 

Diana  laughed. 

'  Poor  Madame  de  Bonneval ! '  she  said.  '  She  is  not 
pretty,  certainly,  but  I  don't  see  what  that  matters/ 

'  It  matters  very  much/  replied  Frau  von  Eaben  impa- 
tiently. '  What  a  child  you  are,  Diana !  Of  course,  good- 
looking  people  must  have  more  temptations  than  ugly  ones. 
What  do  you  suppose  makes  men  stare  at  pretty  faces — 
as  that  English  gentleman  your  cousin  brought  here  stared 
at  you,  for  instance  ? ' 

Diana  coloured  slightly,  and  did  not  reply.  She  sat 
looking  straight  in  front  of  her,  her  low,  straight  brows 
slightly  knitted.  An  artist  looking  at  her  just  then  would 
have  been  reminded  of  the  expression  on  the  face  of  the 
Capitoline  Antinous. 

'  Mr.  Vane/  she  said  thoughtfully,  after  a  pause — ( he 
has  not  been  here  for  a  long  time — not  since  before  Easter 
— and  neither  has  Lino/ 

Frau  von  Eaben  coughed  discreetly. 

'It  is  better  that  he  should  not  come/  she  replied.  CI 
hope,  Diana,  that  you  have  not  been  thinking  about  him/ 

*  I  am  sorry  he  does  not  come/  said  Diana.  '  He  is 
very  pleasant,  I  think.  As  for  Lino,  he  has  never  been  so 


92  DONNA   DIANA 

long  without  coming  here.  Why  do  they  stop  away, 
madame  ? ' 

Frau  von  Eaben  took  her  knitting  from  off  the  table 
near  her,  and  her  needles  began  to  work  rapidly.  She  was 
always  knitting,  and  appeared  to  be  ici  a  perpetual  state 
of  turning  the  heel  of  a  stocking.  Diana  often  wondered 
who  wore  the  stockings,  and  thought  how  hot  and  uncom- 
fortable they  must  be. 

The  prefix  of  Frau  accorded  to  Frau  von  Eaben  in  Casa 
Rocco  was  purely  a  courtesy  title. 

As  Lino  had  said  to  Edmund  Vane,  she  possessed  that 
keen  eye  for  sexual  phenomena  so  often  to  be  met  with  in 
middle-aged  spinsters  with  pronounced  religious  convic- 
tions; and  added  to  this  was  much  of  the  sentimentality 
common  to  her  race.  Marriage — that  natural  alkaline 
to  the  acidity  latent  in  the  female  temperament — had  been 
denied  to  her;  possibly,  as  Lino  declared,  owing  to  the 
practical  foresight  of  the  male  Teutonic  mind. 

Debarred  by  the  proprieties  from  loving  her  neighbour, 
Frau  von  Eaben  had  turned  her  attention  to  the  love  of 
God,  seeking  to  satisfy  in  spiritual  ecstasies  the  cravings 
of  her  material  nature.  One  of  the  results  of  this  per- 
petual striving  to  extract  from  the  spiritual  a  satisfactory 
counterfeit  of  the  joys  of  the  physical  had  been  a  consum- 
ing jealousy  towards  those  whom  she  suspected  of  the 
simple,  human  desire  to  satisfy  the  dictates  of  their  nature 
in  a  frankly  unspiritual  way. 

Since  she  had  been  an  inmate  of  Casa  San  Eocco,  Frau 
von  Eaben  had  had  little  opportunity  of  discovering  in- 
cipient love  affairs.  Donna  Giulia  and  Donna  Maria 
Petrucci's  relations  with  the  opposite  sex  would,  if  any 
suitable  opportunity  presented  itself,  be  arranged  by  their 
own  parents  and  those  of  their  prospective  husbands,  very 
much  in  the  same  way  as  the  alliances  of  their  favourite 
dogs  might  be  arranged.  The  Princess  San  Eocco  was  not 
likely  to  abandon  the  good  old  tradition  that  love  should 
come  after  marriage  and  not  before.  Among  Northern 
races  other  customs  might  be  indulged  in  with  little  or  no 


DONNA   DIANA  93 

risk;  but  in  the  case  of  the  Latin  races  common-sense  had 
shown  the  necessity  of  certain  safeguards  as  to  the  utility 
of  which  foreigners  were  unable  to  be  competent  judges. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  therefore,  if  all  Frau  von 
Eaben's  suspicions  should  have  been  aroused  by  the  sudden 
advent  of  a  young  Englishman  into  the  San  Eocco  family 
circle. 

She  knew  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  English  in 
matters  of  love,  and  was  aware  that  the  young  men  and 
women  of  that  antipathetic  nation  were  allowed  to  settle 
the  preliminaries  of  such  matters  for  themselves.  A  very 
little  observation  of  Edmund  Vane  had  convinced  Frau 
von  Eaben  that  he  intended  to  ravish  Diana  from  the  arms 
of  her  spiritual  bridegroom,  and  she  had  hastened  to  ac- 
quaint Cardinal  Savelli  with  her  fears. 

In  doing  this,  Frau  von  Eaben  had  only  performed 
what  she  believed  to  be  her  duty.  She  was  well  aware  of 
the  Cardinal's  satisfaction  at  the  vocation  for  religion  that 
had  manifested  itself  in  his  niece,  and  had  readily  prom- 
ised to  do  all  in  her  power  to  assist  its  development  when- 
ever Diana  should  be  at  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco. 

The  marked  uneasiness  with  which  Cardinal  Savelli  had 
received  her  intelligence  had  not  escaped  Frau  von  Eaben. 
She  was  quite  sure  that  the  Cardinal  was  a  very  holy  per- 
son ;  for,  being  a  priest,  how  should  he  be  otherwise  ?  But 
she  was  a  little  at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  impatience  and 
almost  irritability  with  which  he  listened  to  her  accounts 
of  Edmund  Vane's  visits  to  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco  and 
scarcely  concealed  admiration  for  Donna  Diana.  Given 
a  singularly  handsome  girl,  and  a  young  man  about  whom 
there  was  a  touch  of  romance,  something  in  the  nature  of 
what  Cardinal  Savelli  appeared  so  much  to  disapprove  was 
not  unlikely  to  occur. 

Possibly,  her  belief  in  the  wisdom  of  ecclesiastics  be- 
ing almost  boundless,  Frau  von  Eaben  would  have  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  herself  that  the  Cardinal  was  only 
grieving  over  the  dangers  threatening  a  virgin  soul — and 
body — dedicated  to  the  service  of  God.  In  speaking  to 


94  DONNA   DIANA 

Cardinal  Savelli,  she  herself  had  insisted  with  much  elo- 
quence on  this  point,  declaring  that,  in  her  opinion,  any 
attempt  to  instil  thoughts  of  carnal  love  into  Diana's  mind 
would  be  a  sacrilege,  a  profanation  of  a  sanctuary  which 
Christ  had  manifestly  chosen  for  His  own. 

There  was,  however,  a  considerable  element  of  astute- 
ness in  Frau  von  Raben's  character,  her  piety  and  senti- 
mentality notwithstanding. 

One  of  the  immediate  effects  of  the  warning  conveyed 
by  her  to  Cardinal  Savelli  was  a  sudden  and  unexpected 
revelation  that  others  besides  Diana's  uncle  and  guardian 
were  perturbed  at  the  idea  of  the  introduction  into  her  life 
of  any  such  upsetting  element  as  love.  The  day  follow- 
ing that  on  which  she  had  sought  an  audience  of  the  Car- 
dinal brought  Don  Marco  Savelli  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 

In  the  course  of  a  prolonged  conversation  with  him — a 
conversation  that  took  place  when  the  Princess  and  her 
daughters  were  out  driving  in  the  Villa  Borghese — Frau 
von  Raben  realized,  as  she  had  never  realized  before,  the 
hatred  Marco  bore  towards  his  younger  brother.  She 
realized,  too,  that,  for  some  reason  which  she  was  unable 
to  fathom,  Marco  was  feverishly  nervous  lest  anything 
should  occur  to  make  Diana  waver  in  her  determination  to 
take  the  veil. 

If  the  Cardinal  had  been  irritated  at  Frau.  von  Raben's 
warnings,  his  nephew  was  at  no  pains  to  conceal  his  anger, 
or  his  indignation  with  Lino  for  having  introduced  an 
impudent  foreigner  into  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 

Marco  Savelli's  attitude  of  being  scandalized  that  Diana 
should  be.  exposed  to  temptation  which  might  destroy  her 
religious  aspirations  did  not  greatly  impress  Frau  von 
Raben.  He  was  so  excited,  indeed,  as  to  bring  her  quickly 
to  the  conclusion  that,  although  Cardinal  Savelli  might 
earnestly  desire  from  purely  celestial  motives  to  see  Diana 
a  nun,  the  motives  influencing  his  favourite  nephew  to  in- 
terest himself  so  deeply  in  the  matter  must  be  sought  for 
in  other  and  less  lofty  quarters. 

Frau  von  Raben  had  not  passed  many  years  in  a  Roman 


DONNA    DIANA  95 

household  without  learning  some  of  the  peculiarities  of 
Eoman  family  life. 

Indeed,  she  was  herself  an  example  of  one  of  those 
peculiarities.  In  Borne  there  is  generally  a  third  person 
to  be  dealt  with  in  all  matters — public  or  private,  import- 
ant or  trifling,  social  or  domestic.  This  third  person 
usually  remains  behind  the  scenes,  sometimes  in  a  very 
humble  capacity;  but  his  or  her  influence  makes  itself 
felt  in  all  relations  of  life,  often  for  good,  but  often,  too, 
for  evil. 

In  Casa  San  Eocco,  Frau  von  Eaben  was  herself  this 
third  person,  standing  behind,  and  sometimes  between, 
the  master  and  mistress  of  the  house.  For  years  the 
Princess  had  been  accustomed  to  seek  her  advice  and  to 
act  upon  it.  It  had  been  something  of  a  surprise  to  her, 
therefore,  to  find  that  there  might  be  other  than  purely 
religious  motives  at  work  to  keep  Donna  Diana  Savelli 
faithful  to  her  intentions  of  renouncing  the  world  for  the 
cloister.  When  the  Cardinal  had  besought  her  to  use  her 
influence  to  confirm  and  strengthen  these  intentions  in 
his  niece,  she  had  honestly  believed  him  to  be  moved  by  no 
other  thought  than  that  of  securing  the  welfare  of  Diana's 
soul  and  a  recruit  to  the  regular  orders  of  the  Church. 
Now,  after  an  hour's  conversation  with  Marco  Savelli,  she 
had  begun  to  suspect  that  the  latter's  influence  had  been 
working  upon  the  Cardinal. 

This  new  development  of  the  situation  was  not  unpleas- 
ing  to  Frau  von  Eaben.  She  had  always  disliked  Lino 
Savelli,  the  more  so  because  all  her  attempts  to  undermine 
the  Princess  San  Eocco's  affection  for  the  latter  by  in- 
cessant lamentations  over  his  want  of  religious  faith,  and 
mysterious  hints  of  his  evil  modes  of  life,  had  failed  to 
produce  any  decided  effect. 

Between  herself  and  Marco  there  had  long  existed  a 
bond  of  sympathy  in  their  mutual  antipathy  towards  Lino. 
Both  felt  in  their  hearts  that  he  had  a  quiet,  good-hu- 
moured contempt  for  them. 

It  had  not  been  difficult  to  work  upon  the  Princess's 


96  DONNA   DIANA 

religious  sentiments,  and  to  make  her  feel  that  Lino's 
presence  in  the  house  while  Diana  was  an  inmate  of  it 
would  be  a  danger. 

Frau  von  Raben's  tactics  had  so  far  been  successful. 
Lino  had  not  been  near  the  Palazzo  San  Kocco  for  several 
weeks,  and  there  was  no  fear,  therefore,  that  he  might  be 
pleading  his  friend's  cause  with  Diana.  The  latter  had 
hitherto  appeared  to  be  quite  unconscious  of  the  fact  that 
she  was  the  object  of  so  much  interest  and  speculation. 
But  once  on  the  scent  of  a  love  affair,  Frau  von  Raben's 
curiosity  was  apt  to  get  the  better  of  her  discretion.  She 
was  determined  to  ascertain  whether  Diana  was  aware  of 
this  Englishman's  admiration  or  not;  but  since  her  con- 
versation with  Marco  she  was  even  more  anxious  to  dis- 
cover whether  there  were  no  other  motives  at  work  in  the 
family  for  urging  Diana  to  adhere  to  her  resolutions  than 
those  prompted  by  religious  enthusiasm. 

Like  many  religious  enthusiasts  of  air  sects,  Frau  von 
Raben  was  a  great  believer  in  utilizing  the  human  passions 
to  religious  ends.  Brands  snatched  from  the  burning  are 
always  more  interesting  objects  than  those  that  have  never 
been  exposed  to  it;  and  Frau  von  Raben  had  one  or  two 
favourites  among  the  canonized  reformed  rakes  of  both 
sexes,  whose  lives — especially  the  portions  of  them  relating 
to  their  unregenerate  days — she  was  wont  to  read  with 
considerable  zest. 

To  say  the  truth,  she  had  been  disappointed  to  find  so 
little  material  to  work  upon  in  Diana's  nature.  She  would 
have  preferred  to  encounter  some  evidence  of  what  she 
termed  sexual  problems,  in  however  initial  a  stage,  working 
in  the  girl's  mind. 

In  the  case  of  the  Princess's  daughters,  the  problems 
were  no  doubt  present,  and  would  be  resolved  by  marriage 
in  due  course.  However  that  might  be,  Frau  von  Raben 
had  never  felt  any  special  psychological  interest  in  Donna 
Giulia  or  her  sister.  They  were  neither  pretty  nor  in 
their  first  youth,  and  they  had  never  shown  any  desire 
to  yield  themselves  up  to  spiritual  embraces.  But  with 


DONNA   DIANA  97 

Diana  it  was  different;  and  now  that  a  lover  of  flesh  and 
blood  had  appeared,  however  momentarily,,  on  the  scene, 
Frau  von  Raben  felt  that  an  opportunity  had  arrived  to 
test  the  state  of  the  girFs  mind.  If  there  were  no  sexual 
problems  to  be  solved,  so  much  the  better,  though  this 
would  have  been  a  little  disappointing.  But  if  there  were 
—well,  Frau  von  Eaben  thought  of  St.  Alfonso  Liguori, 
St.  Ignatius,  and  others,  and  of  the  admirably  suggestive 
little  works  she  had  studied  describing  the  uses  to  which 
similar  holy  people  had  put  their  frailties  when  carnal  in- 
dulgencies  became  inconvenient. 

6 1  suppose  that  Mr.  Vane  does  not  care  to  come  any 
more/  observed  Diana,  as  Frau  von  Raben  continued  to 
knit.  '  But  why  does  Lino  stop  away  ? ' 

Frau  von  Raben  looked  at  her  critically. 

She  had  just  begun  a  new  row,  and  could  afford  to  take 
her  eyes  off  her  stocking. 

( You  have  not  answered  my  question,  Diana/  she  said. 
6 1  asked  you  if  you  were  allowing  yourself  to  think  of 
Mr.  Vane/ 

'  Did  you  ?  '  replied  Diana.  '  I  thought  you  said .  that 
you  hoped  I  wasn't  allowing  myself  to  think  about  him/ 

Frau  von  Raben  sniffed,  a  habit  she  had  when  annoyed. 

'  That  is  a  mere  quibble/  she  remarked.  ( You  must 
know  perfectly  well  what  I  mean,  Diana.  As  you  have 
noticed  Mr.  Vane's  absence,  you  must  have  noticed  his 
presence.' 

Diana's  eyes  gleamed  with  a  mischievous  light.  She  en- 
joyed teasing  Frau  von  Raben. 

( But  of  course  I  have  noticed  his  presence/  she  re- 
turned. '  He  is  tall  and  big,  and,  besides,  he  is  English — 
I  like  the  English.' 

Frau  von  Raben's  needles  stopped  working,  and  she 
dropped  two  stitches. 

e  A  detestable  race ! '  she  said  sharply.  '  Cowards,  too ! 
See  how  they  are  treating  those  poor  Boers/ 

e  At  any  rate,  Mr.  Vane  is  not  a  coward/  replied  Diana. 
'He  stayed  with  Lino  alone  in  those  wild  places,  when 


98  DONNA   DIANA 

he  might  have  been  killed.  As  for  the  Boers,  Lino 
says 

'Don't  be  silly,  Diana!  you  know  nothing  about  the 
English.  They  are  a  vile  people,  I  tell  you,  and  they  are 
ridiculous  as  well.  You  have  only  got  to  look  at  them  in 
the  streets  and  the  churches — the  women  with  their  great 
feet,  and  their  straw  hats  and  sticking-out  teeth ! ' 

6  Oh,  the  women !  Yes,  they  are  very  funny/  responded 
Diana  tranquilly.  'But  the  men — I  like  to  look  at  the 
men.' 

<  Diana ! > 

'  I  don't  mean  the  tourists  one  sees  about  the  streets,  but 
the  men  like  Mr.  Vane,  you  know.  We  used  to  peep 
through  the  grille  at  the  forestieri  who  come  to  Benediction 
at  the  Trinita  dei  Monti — Madame  de  Bonneval  says  some 
of  them  come  because  they  think  Mendelssohn  plays  the 
organ — and  we  could  always  tell  the  English  gentlemen/ 

Frau  von  Eaben  held  up  her  hands  in  horror,  and  let 
her  knitting  fall  into  her  lap. 

f  Tiana ! '  she  exclaimed,  her  German  accent  becoming 
more  and  more  obtrusive  as  her  anger  increased.  '  What 
you  are  saying  is  scandalous — a  fergogna  for  a  young  girl, 
a  girl  who  is  going  to  be  a  nun,  too !  If  you  are  in  love 
with  this  Englishman,  who  has  no  more  manners  than — 
than  a  pig,  you  may  as  well  confess  it.' 

Nothing  short  of  uncontrollable  resentment  would  have 
caused  Frau  von  Eaben  so  far  to  forget  the  proprieties  of 
the  Italian  language  as  to  make  use  of  the  simile  in 
question. 

She  snapped  it  out,  however — the  plain,  vulgar  word 
porco,  that  lost  nothing  of  its  indignity  in  the  manner  of 
her  pronouncing  it. 

Diana  looked  at  her.  There  was  an  expression  of  bewil- 
dered amazement  in  her  eyes,  and  the  colour  rose  and 
deepened  on  her  brow. 

'  In  love  ? >  she  repeated  in  a  low  voice.  <  I  ?  And  with 
Mr.  Vane??  And  then  she  smiled,  and  stood  looking 
down  upon  Frau  von  Kaben  doubtfully.  ( That  is  absurd/ 


DONNA   DIANA  99 

she  continued  after  a  pause — f  quite  absurd.  Besides,  what 
is  love  ?  I  have  tried  to  feel  it  for  our  Lord,  you  know,  but 
I  suppose  that  is  not  quite  the  same  thing  as — as ' 

Frau  von  Eaben  recovered  herself  rapidly,  her  anger 
giving  place  to  annoyance  with  herself  for  being  so  pre- 
cipitate. 

'  I  was  only  joking/  she  said  hurriedly.  i  Of  course  it 
is  absurd.  How  should  you  be  in  love  with  Mr.  Vane  when 
you  have  only  seen  him  a  few  times?  As  to  the  other — 
that  other  love — it  is  not  different  at  all,  really.  It  will 
come  to  you  some  day,  if  you  continue  to  love  our  Lord/ 

'  But  I  have  never  seen  Him  at  all/  observed  Diana 
thoughtfully. 

Frau  von  Raben  darted  a  keen  glance  at  her.  Decidedly, 
she  thought,  Diana  was  not  so  easy  to  understand  as  she 
had  been  a  few  months  ago. 

She  shook  her  head  gravely. 

'  The  lusts  of  the  eye/  she  replied — '  you  must  beware 
of  the  lusts  of  the  eye ;  at  least,  as  regards  the  human  form. 
The  blessed  lineaments  of  the  Divine  Form  are  known 
to  us  all,  and  they  should  satisfy  us.  You  will  gaze  upon 
these  with  the  eye  of  the  soul,  and  He  will  give  them  to 
you  for  your  enjoyment.  Come,  Diana,  the  sun  is  not  so 
warm  now,  and  the  Princess  said  we  might  use  the  carriage 
this  afternoon,  as  she  does  not  want  it.  We  will  drive  out 
by  Monte  Mario  and  get  a  little  country  air/ 

Diana  left  the  room  to  put  on  her  things  for  driving, 
and  Frau  von  Raben  lingered  for  a  moment  or  two  in 
order  to  pick  up  her  dropped  stitches. 


CHAPTER   IX 

COUNTESS  VERINT  had  had  a  long  day. 

To  begin  with,  she  had  gone  to  Mass,  heing  one  of  those 
people,  who,  however  they  may  elect  to  finish  the  day,  prefer 
to  make  their  conventional  sacrifice  to  the  Deity  at  the 
beginning  of  it.  Then  she  had  gone  to  her  dressmaker — a 
sacrifice  that  she  owed  to  society.  Of  the  two,  the  visit 
to  the  dressmaker  had  been  the  more  trying,  since  it  was 
not  so  easy  to  reason  with  the  latter  on  the  question  of 
credit.  After  breakfast  she  had  attended  a  conference  de- 
livered by  a  learned  Hindoo,  who,  possessed  of  a  fine  con- 
tempt for  the  traditions  of  caste  and  a  nice  taste  in  plati- 
tudes, was  enjoying  a  European  trip  at  the  expense  of 
Western  female  intellect. 

The  lecture  which  had  lasted  from  three  o'clock  until 
five,  had  been  comforting,  even  if  at  times  confusing,  and 
then  Countess  Verini  had  gone  to  tea  at  the  house  of  a 
disciple  of  the  lecturer,  whither  had  also  adjourned  some 
of  the  elect  among  his  audience.  Here  had  been  discussed 
more  than  one  soul-inspiring  topic;  indeed,  the  field 
covered  was  catholic  in  its  comprehensiveness,  ranging  as 
it  did  by  easy  gradations  from  Brahman  philosophy  to 
the  fausse-couche  of  a  friend  that  had  occurred  the  day 
before. 

It  was  scarcely  to  be  wondered  at  if  Countess  Verini  felt 
fatigued  by  dinner-time.  Fortunately,  it  was  not  one  of 
her  evenings  for  receiving,  and,  having  put  on  a  loose  tea- 
gown,  she  retired  after  dinner  to  her  sitting-room.  Here 
she  lay  down  on  a  sofa  and  began  to  read,  not  her  notes 
taken  during  that  afternoon's  lecture,  but  the  more  modern 
philosophy  to  be  found  in  the  "  Journal  d'une  Femme 
de  Chambre/ 

100 


DONNA   DIANA   ,     .„,  \   ^  ]  101 

To  say  that  Countess  Verini  received  on  only  three  even- 
ings of  the  week  would  not  have  been  strictly  accurate. 
When  she  was  not  dining  out,  she  was  at  home  to  certain 
visitors.  Her  servants  knew  how  to  distinguish  these 
visitors  without  any  instructions  on  the  subject — of  what 
use  should  be  Countess  Vermi's  maid,,  who  had  been  in  her 
service  some  years,  had  they  not  so  known?  Moreover, 
they  knew  which  visitor  expected  to  pay  his  visits  without 
fear  of  being  disturbed  by  the  arrival  of  another  intimate 
friend  of  the  house. 

At  half-past  ten  o'clock  Countess  Verini  was  still  en- 
grossed in  her  study  of  modern  manners. 

'  I  wonder  if  Adele  keeps  a  journal/  she  said  to  herself 
at  intervals,  as  she  turned  over  the  leaves.  '  I'm.  sure  I 
hope  not!  Dreadfully  indiscreet,  I  consider  it,  putting 
such  an  idea  into  servants'  heads/ 

Suddenly  her  reading  was  interrupted  by  the  distant 
jingle  of  the  telephone-bell  ringing  in  the  ante-room,  and 
a  minute  or  two  afterwards  a  servant  entered  and  asked 
if  the  Signora  Contessa  received. 

'  Who  is  it  ? '  she  asked. 

6  Don  Marco  Savelli,  Eccellenza/ 

Countess  Verini  glanced  at  her  book.  It  amused  her, 
and  she  really  was  tired. 

6  Very  well.  Say  that  I  will  receive  him.  Where  does 
Don  Marco  telephone  from  ? '  she  added. 

'  From  the  Scacchi  Club,  Eccellenza/ 

The  man  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  when  Countess 
Verini  stopped  him. 

'  I  am  not  at  home  to  anybody  else/  she  said.  '  And  tell 
Don  Marco,  that  as  I  can  only  receive  him  for  a  few  min- 
utes, I  think  he  may  not  find  it  worth  the  while  to  come/ 

When  the  servant  had  left  the  room,  Countess  Verini 
threw  aside  the  silken  quilt  that  she  had  drawn  over  her 
feet,  and,  rising  from  the  sofa,  groped  for  the  shoes  she 
had  kicked  off.  Then  she  arranged  her  hair  before  the 
looking-glass,  and  finally  sat  down  in  a  low  arm-chair  by 
the  side  of  a  Louis  Quinze  table  on  which  were  lilies  of 


102  DOXNA   DIANA 

. 

the  valley,  and  among  them  a  photograph  of  Count  Verini. 
There  were  photographs  of  Count  Verini  all  over  his  wife's 
apartment,  and  in  her  bedroom  he  shared  the  post  of  honour 
with  St.  Joseph,  to  the  lasting  amusement  of  her  French 
maid,  who  was  possessed  of  a  sense  of  humour  and  a  lurking 
sympathy  with  husbands  obliged  by  force  of  circumstances 
to  form  part  of  a  menage  a  trois. 

6 1  wonder/  said  Countess  Verini  to  herself,  '  if  he  has 
got  the  money  ? '  And  then  she  glanced  at  her  reflection 
in  a  mirror  opposite  and  smiled  a  little.  She  certainly 
had  no  reason  to  be  dissatisfied  with  what  she  saw  in  the 
looking-glass.  It  reflected  the  image  of  a  handsome  woman 
of  about  five-and-thirty  years  of  age,  with  masses  of  jet- 
black  hair  piled  closely  on  her  head.  The  features  were 
regular  and  strongly  marked,  with  something  about  the 
setting  of  the  dark  blue-black  eyes  and  the  moulding  of 
the  nose  and  chin  that  suggested  a  strain  of  Jewish  blood. 
'Even  the  loose  folds  of  the  tea-gown  Countess  Verini  wore 
could  not  conceal  the  fact  that  she  possessed  a  superb 
figure,  and  the  delicate,  coffee-coloured  lace  about  her  neck 
and  shoulders  only  served  to  bring  its  well-modelled  lines 
into  greater  evidence. 

Perhaps  the  fault  of  Countess  Verini's  face  lay  in  its 
expression,  which  when  the  features  were  in  repose  was  apt 
to  be  hard  and  discontented.  As  her  features  never  were 
in  repose,  however,  when  she  was  in  the  world,  or,  at  any 
rate,  very  rarely  so,  this  did  not  endanger  her  reputation 
for  good  looks  or  sweetness  of  temper.  In  other  capitals, 
possibly,  the  Countess  Verini  would  have  been  regarded 
as  a  passably  good-looking  woman,  with  an  undeniably 
fine  figure.  But  in  Eome  a  reputation  for  beauty  is  more 
easily  obtained;  and,  the  Eomans  having  a  traditional 
regard  for  ruins,  when  once  acquired  it  has  the  additional 
advantage  of  wearing  well. 

Some  people  said  disagreeable  things  about  Countess 
Verini.  She  was  one  of  those  Roman  ladies  whose  supposed 
sayings  and  doings  were  much  gossiped  about  and  discussed 
round  the  tea-tables  of  the  elderly  English  and  American 


DONNA   DIANA  103 

ladies  who  haunt  Eome  and  strive  to  compass  the  ac- 
quaintance of  the  Italians,  whom  they  are  never  weary  of 
abusing.  Such  as  these  shook  their  heads  and  gave  God 
superfluous  thanks  that  they  were  not  as  the  foreign 
women.  In  the  genuine  Eoman  world  people  held  their 
tongues  about  Countess  Verini,  or  smiled  indulgently  and 
talked  of  her  artistic  temperament. 

The  noise  of  a  door  opening  behind  her  disturbed 
Countess  Vermi's  train  of  thoughts,  in  this  instance  of  a 
distinctly  material  nature. 

The  servant  held  aside  the  portiere  as  he  announced  Don 
Marco  Savelli,  and  Countess  Verini,  without  turning  her 
head,  extended  a  white  hand  and  a  partly  bared  arm  from 
the  depth  of  her  chair.  Marco  bent  over  her  hand  and 
kissed  it. 

'  I  thought  I  should  find  you  alone  this  evening/  he 
said,  'but  I  telephoned  in  order  to  make  sure/ 

Countess  Verini  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

'  I  am  dead  tired/  she  replied,  '  body  and  mind.  I  have 
been  to  Ram  Lai's  conference,  you  know.  If  you  had  come 
later  you  would  have  found  me  in  bed/ 

'  It  is  a  pity,  then- — -'  began  Marco. 

Countess  Verini  interrupted  him. 

'  I  suppose  you  have  not  come  to  talk  nonsense/  she  said 
a  little  irritably. 

'  I  never  talk  nonsense/  replied  Marco,  and  Countess 
Verini  gave  her  shoulders  an  almost  imperceptible  shrug. 
'  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I  cannot  get  the  money, 
Laura/  continued  Marco  hurriedly.  '  It  is  impossible. 
You  must  make  the  people  wait/ 

Countess  Verini  tapped  her  foot  upon  the  carpet. 

'  They  won't  wait/  she  said  briefly,  '  and  I  must  have 
the  money.  Have  you  consulted  Tomei?' 

'  Yes,  he  can  do  nothing — that  is,  nothing  at  present. 
It  is  a  bad  moment/ 

(  The  Cardinal,  Marco/  said  Countess  Verini  tentatively 
— '  could  not  Tomei  speak  to  him  ?  You  might  have  been 
unlucky  on  the  Bourse  again,  you  know/ 


104  DONNA   DIANA 

Marco  Savelli  shook  his  head. 

'  It  is  too  soon/  he  answered.  '  Besides,  you  know  how 
the  money  was  found  last  time.' 

Laura  Verini  took  two  cigarettes  from  a  little  silver  box 
on  the  table. 

( It  soothes  the  nerves/  she  said,  as  Marco  lighted  one 
for  her.  'And  why  cannot  Tomei  persuade  the  Cardinal 
to  draw  again  from  the  same  source  ? '  she  asked.  ( We 
could  make  it  worth  his  while/ 

Marco  was  cautious  even  in  his  love  affairs,  and  Laura 
Verini,  like  many  another  woman,  was  fond  of  money,  or, 
rather,  was  fond  of  spending  it.  He  knew  that  she  could 
be  depended  upon  to  keep  silence  as  to  the  withdrawal  of 
a  part  of  Diana's  capital  as  long  as  she  thought  that  the 
money  had  gone  to  pay  her  own  debts. 

Laura  Yerini  shot  a  rapid  glance  at  her  companion  as 
he  sat  in  silence. 

e  If  you  manage  Tomei  properly,  he  will  find  the  money/ 
she  said  presently. 

Marco  shook  his  head. 

6  It  is  too  dangerous/  he  replied.  e  If  Diana  were 
younger,  it  would  be  simple  enough.  But  she  is  eigh- 
teen, and  in  three  years'  time  can  claim  her  fortune. 
What  would  be  said  if  only  a  portion  of  it  were  forth- 
coming ? ' 

'But  the  sum  is  not  so  very  large/  returned  Countess 
Verini.  '  Her  fortune  is  a  million  francs,  is  it  not  ?  That 
is  a  sum  which  bears  dipping  into.  And  your  uncle  is  so 
sure  to  be  appointed  to  some  post  the  emoluments  of  which 
would  increase  his  income.  I  have  heard  him  mentioned  as 
the  future  Cardinal- Vicar.  Besides,  he  is  rich,  Marco.  It 
is  useless  to  deny  it,  though  very  likely  he  conceals  the 
fact  from  you.  There,  I  don't  blame  him;  but,  then,  I 
know  you  better  than  he  does.' 

'  People  think  he  is  rich,'  said  Marco,  '  but  I  believe  he 
has  spent  most  of  his  capital.  There  were  calls  upon  him, 
you  know,  at  one  time.' 

Countess  Verini  laughed. 


DONNA   DIANA  105 

'  No  doubt/  she  replied.  ( He  must  have  been  very 
good-looking  twenty  years  ago.' 

( But  it  was  very  certain/  continued  Marco,  '  that,  were 
he  as  well  off  as  people  imagine,  he  would  not  have  been 
obliged  to  draw  upon  Diana's  capital  in  order  to — to 
help  me.' 

Countess  Verini  leaned  back  among  the  cushions  of  her 
chair  and  blew  little  wreaths  of  smoke  into  the  air. 

'  The  girl  always  means  to  be  a  nun  ? '  she  asked  medi- 
tatively. 

'  Yes,  of  course/  answered  Marco  eagerly. 

'  And  why  "  of  course  "  ?  I  do  not  see  any  "  of  course  " 
about  it.  She  must  be  an  imbecile.' 

'  Possibly.  But  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  nobody  will  tell 
her  so/  Marco  returned  dryly. 

(  And  this  money — it  is  hers  absolutely  when  she  is  of 
age?' 

'  Absolutely.' 

'And  if  she  dies?' 

( It  would  be  divided  between  a  good  many  relatives 
should  she  die  unmarried  before  she  is  of  age.  Those  were 
the  terms  of  her  father's  will.' 

'  I  see.  It  is  far  better  that  she  should  be  a  nun/  said 
Countess  Verini. 

6  At  least,  she  will  not  want  all  her  money  if  she  takes 
the  veil/  said  Marco.  '  A  portion  of  it,  I  suppose,  would 
have  to  be  paid  over  to  the  convent,  and  the  remainder  she 
could  employ  to  benefit  her  relations  left  to  struggle  with 
the  difficulties  of  living  in  the  world.' 

Countess  Verini  smiled  a  little  satirically. 

'  An  excellent  arrangement/  she  observed,  '  but  one  that 
is  of  not  much  use  in  the  present.  You  are  like  every  other 
man,  Marco — you  think  and  plan  only  for  your  own 
benefit.  It  is  nothing  to  you  that  I  am  in  want  of  money.' 

Marco  Savelli  took  hold  of  the  white  hand  reposing 
daintily  upon  the  arm  of  her  chair. 

( Laura ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  How  can  you  say  such  such  a 
thing !  it  is  unjust,  unfair !  If  I  had  the  money,  I  would 


106  DONNA   DIANA 

give  it  to  you.  But  I  dare  not  go  to  my  uncle  so  soon  with 
the  same  story.  Tomei  declares  that  he  would  not  believe 
me.  You  must  have  patience.  By  degrees,  perhaps,  we 
shall  be  able  to  do  something/ 

Laura  Verini  drew  her  hand  away. 

( Your  uncle  has  all  that  money  in  his  power/  she  said, 
with  a  little  sigh,  'and  he  has  used  some  of  it  once.  Why 
cannot  he  use  it  again?  He  would  do  anything  for  you, 
but  you  will  do  nothing  for  me.  And  it  is  you  who  are 
unfair  and  unjust;  you  take  everything  I  have  to  give, 
and — and ' 

Marco  slipped  from  his  chair  and  knelt  beside  her, 
passing  one  of  his  arms  round  her  while  his  disengaged 
hand  disarranged  the  lace  about  her  breast  and  throat. 
The  faint  perfume  clinging  about  her  seemed  to  rise  to 
his  head  and  make  him  dizzy,  while  the  soft  touch  of  the 
delicate  flesh  under  his  fingers  maddened  him. 

Laura  Verini  lay  passively  in  his  arms  for  a  moment 
or  two.  Then  she  shook  herself  free  from  him  with  a  half- 
smile  upon  her  lips. 

'  Do  not  be  silly,  Marco/  she  said.  (  Supposing  one  of 
the  servants  should  come  into  the  room!  I  didn't  mean 
what  I  said  just  now.  Let  us  talk  the  thing  over  sensibly. 
If  your  cousin  Diana  has  set  her  mind  upon  going  into  a 
convent,  she  will  probably  want  to  take  her  money  with  her.' 

'But  not  all  of  it/  insisted  Marco. 

'And  why  not?' 

e  Oh,  because 9  Marco  broke  off  abruptly. 

'  Because  ? ' 

'Why  should  the  convent  have  all  her  money?'  he 
resumed.  '  If  Diana  does  not  require  it,  there  are  others 
of  her  family  who  do  so.  Moreover,  as  I  said  just  now, 
if  she  dies  while  under  age  it  would  be  divided.  Of  course, 
her  father  never  contemplated  that  she  would  develop  this 
craze  for  religion,  or  he  would  probably  not  have  left  her 
so  much/ 

Laura  Verini  looked  at  him  curiously. 

'You  are  laying  your  plans  far  in  the  future/  she  ob- 


DONNA   DIANA  -       107 

served,  'and — you  and  I  can  be  frank  with  each  other — 
of  course  your  cousin's  religious  craze,  as  you  call  it,  is 
very  lucky  for  you.  If  she  had  not  got  it,  she  would  de- 
velop a  craze  for  matrimony,  and  her  husband  would  want 
to  see  her  dot.  From  his  point  of  view,  your  uncle  is 
quite  right  to  encourage  her  religious  ardour — a  priest 
could  do  no  less — and  from  your  point  of  view  you  are 
quite  right  to  second  him.' 

Marco  Savelli  twisted  a  cigarette  between  his  fingers 
without  replying. 

'  All  the  same/  proceeded  Countess  Verini  quietly,  ' I 
think  that  you  are  making  a  mistake.' 

6  What  do  you  mean,  Laura  ?  ' 

'  Why  do  you  trouble  yourself  about  the  future  ?  It  ap- 
pears to  me  to  be  absurd  to  do  so.  Your  cousin  is  much 
younger  than  you,  and  nuns  live  long.  There  is  nothing 
to  kill  them  except  old  age — that  is  to  say,  if  they  are 
content  to  confine  themselves  to  spiritual  emotions.  There 
is  no  genuine  waste  of  nervous  tissue  with  the  latter.  You 
say  a  portion  of  her  fortune  will  be  required  by  the  con- 
vent she  enters.  Well,  why  do  you  not  encourage  her  to 
leave  all  her  fortune  to  it?  The  idea  should  please  her, 
as  she  is  so  devote/ 

6  Leave  all  her  fortune  to  a  convent  ? ?  repeated  Marco. 
'  What  good  would  that  do  ?  ' 

Countess  Yerini  smiled. 

'Dear  Marco,  you  are  a  little  dense  this  evening.  In- 
deed, on  this  point  I  think  you  have  always  been  so.  The 
longer  this  girl's  money  can  remain  in  the  custody  of  your 
uncle,  the  better  you  will  be  pleased — is  it  not  so  ? 9 

'Yes,'  said  Marco. 

'  Bene !  As  soon  as  she  is  of  age,  she  might  sign  a  deed 
of  gift  of  her  capital  in  favour  of  the  Superior  of  her  con- 
vent. The  nuns  might  wish  to  buy  an  establishment  in 
Home — in  the  Ludovisi  quarter,  for  instance — and  the 
money  would  be  very  useful.' 

e  And  my  uncle  would  have  to  hand  over  a  million  francs 
to  some  old  woman  to  buy  land  with/  exclaimed  Marco. 


108  DONNA   DIANA 

Countess  Verini  laughed  gently. 

'  Oh  no,  my  dear  Marco ;  the  Cardinal  would  have  to 
do  nothing  of  the  kind.  Listen  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  you 
all  that  would  happen.  It  is  delightfully  simple,  and  I 
wonder  that  you  have  not  thought  of  it  for  yourself.  Of 
course  your  uncle  would  consider  it  to  be  his  duty  to  guard 
against  his  niece  parting  with  her  capital  in  a  momentary 
fit  of  enthusiasm.  The  gift  might  take  effect  when  your 
cousin  was  twenty-five  years  old.  In  the  meantime  the 
capital  would  not  need  to  be  disturbed.  Between  the  ages 
of  eighteen  and  twenty-five  there  are  seven  years,  you 
understand?  The  Cardinal  might  naturally  continue  to 
administer  your  cousin's  affairs  even  after  she  had  come 
of  age/ 

Marco  Savelli  nodded. 

( Yes/  he  said,  '  I  see  what  you  mean.  You  are  very 
business-like,  Laura.  But  in  the  end  the  capital  would 
have  to  be  paid  over;  and  supposing  it  were  not  there 
to  pay?' 

'  It  would  be  very  unfortunate/  replied  Countess  Verini 
dryly.  '  But  a  religious  institution — especially  a  female 
religious  institution — is  easier  to  deal  with  in  the  case 
of  an  unpaid  dot  than  a  husband;  the  former  cannot 
afford  to  abandon  its  spiritual  pretensions,  you  must  re- 
member.' 

Marco  sat  for  some  moments  biting  his  nails  in  silence. 

'You  mean  that  Diana  should  be  encouraged  to  endow 
her  convent  with  her  capital/  he  said  at  length,  '  and  that 
the  convent  would  be  content  to  wait  at  any  rate  six  or 
seven  years  for  the  money.' 

f  Precisely/  returned  Countess  Verini.  ( Much  may 
happen  in  six  or  seven  years.' 

6  That  is  all  very  well,  Laura ;  but  supposing  Diana  de- 
clines to  entertain  the  idea  ? ' 

'Did  she  decline  to  entertain  the  idea  of  becoming  a 
nun?' 

e  Oh,  that  is  so  different !  She  has  a  vocation/  replied 
Marco. 


DONNA    DIANA  109 

His  voice  assumed  a  pious  tone  as  he  spoke,  and  his 
eyes  dropped  furtively. 

Countess  Verini  looked  at  him  and  smiled. 

'  No,  dear  friend/  she  said,  '  do  not  treat  me  to  your 
ecclesiastical  manner,  I  beg  of  you !  No  doubt  it  becomes 
you  in  the  Via  Giulia,  but  here,  in  my  sitting-room,  it  is 
a  little  out  of  the  picture.  I  put  mine  away  in  the  morn- 
ings, after  Mass/ 

'  But  she  has  a  vocation/  interrupted  Marco,  a  little 
angrily. 

'  Besides/  proceeded  Countess  Verini,  without  heeding 
him,  '  it  is  all  nonsense,  you  know.  Of  course,  she  has  a 
religious  vocation — just  as  much  as  our  conscripts  have  a 
military  vocation.  Oh,  do  not  think  that  I  am  blaming 
anybody;  I  am  all  for  women  going  into  convents.  It 
reduces  competition.  All  I  mean  is  that  there  is  no  reason 
to  keep  up  any  comedy  with  me  on  the  subject/ 

'  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  comedy,  Laura/  said 
Marco  sulkily. 

(  But  you  know  perfectly  well,  caro  mio  I  Only  do  not 
defeat  your  own  ends — that  is  all.  You  would  be  very 
glad  to  have  your  share  of  your  cousin's  money — si  capisce. 
And,  as  she  can  at  the  same  time  benefit  you  and  your 
own  soul  by  doing  so,  it  is  quite  natural  that  you  should 
encourage  her  to  become  a  nun.  But  why  wait  for  her 
money  when  you  already  have  it  practically  in  your  power  ?  ' 

Marco  Savelli's  naturally  sallow  face  grew  a  shade  paler. 

'  But  it  is  not  in  my  power/  he  said  in  a  low  voice ;  '  it 
is  the  hands  of  my  uncle/ 

c  Sciocchezze  ! '  replied  Laura  Verini.  '  As  I  said  before, 
he  has  used  it  for  you  once,  and  he  will  do  so  again.  It 
is  only  the  first  step  that  costs.  Get  Tomei  on  your  side. 
You  told  me  yourself  that  the  Cardinal  does  not  move  a 
finger  financially  without  consulting  him ! 9 

6  That  is  true/  said  Marco.  '  But  I  am  no  particular 
favourite  of  Monsignor  Tomei/  he  added.  c  And,  Laura, 
if  he  were  to  find  where  the  money  really  went,  and  were 
to  tell  my  uncle  ? ' 


110  DONNA   DIANA 

6  It  would  scandalize  them  both  terribly,  of  course/ 
interposed  Countess  Verini  sarcastically.  '  And  yet  the 
Cardinal  might  make  allowances.  He  might  remember, 
perhaps,  that  you  did  not  miraculously  change  your  mas- 
culine nature  by  becoming  a  priest/  Laura  Verini  leaned 
forward  and  laid  her  hand  on  Marco's.  '  If  once  I  had 
this  sum  I  am  in  such  need  of/  she  continued  hurriedly, 
'  I  should  be  easy  in  my  mind.  You  will  get  it  for  me, 
Marco,  will  you  not?  You  see,  I  come  to  you,  though  I 
know  you  are  poor.  There  are  others  who  are  rich — the 
money  would  be  nothing  to  them — who  would  give  to  me 
readily.  But,  then,  they  would  want  to  be  paid,  Marco ; ' 
and  she  stopped,  looking  down  into  his  eyes  and  stooping 
towards  him  till  her  lips  nearly  touched  his. 

e  And  me — you  will  repay  me,  Laura  ? '  he  exclaimed 
passionately. 

'  You  ?  Ah,  yes ! '  answered  Laura  Verini  with  a  little 
laughing  sigh — 'yes.  But,  then,  I  love  you,  Marco,  so 
the  debt  will  be  easy  to  pay/ 

The  soft,  deep  gong  of  a  travelling  clock  on  the  writing- 
table  struck  twelve,  and  Countess  Verini  started  and  dis- 
engaged herself  from  Marco's  embrace.  'But  you  are 
too  premature/  she  exclaimed,  smiling.  e  Do  you  want  to 
touch  the  interest  before  lending  the  money  ?  Via,  Marco ! 
it  is  too  late  already,  and  I — well,  I  have  told  you  several 
times  that  I  am  very  tired.  Do  me  the  favour  of  ringing 
the  bell,  and  one  of  the  servants  shall  light  you  down 
the  staircase,  for  it  is  very  certain  that  the  porter  will  have 
turned  out  the  gas,  and  if  you  are  found  in  the  morning 
with  a  broken  neck  there  will  be  a  scandal/ 


CHAPTER  X 

DIANA  SAVELLI  had  not  been  many  weeks  at  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  before  she  began  to  find  her  life  there  somewhat 
dreary.  She  missed  her  companions  at  the  Sacre  C'ceur, 
and  more  than  all  the  rest  she  missed  Madame  de  Bon- 
neval.  At  first  the  change  had  possessed  something  of  the 
charms  of  comparative  novelty.  It  was  pleasant  no  longer 
to  be  obliged  to  do  certain  things  at  certain  hours,  to  feel 
that  she  was  at  home.,  and  not,  in  a  sense,  at  school.  The 
Princess  was  invariably  kind  to  her,  though,  as  Diana  had 
said  to  Cardinal  Savelli,  she  could  never  bring  herself  to 
remember  that  her  niece  was  no  longer  a  child;  and  the 
Prince  was  as  fond,  or  perhaps  even  fonder,  of  her  than 
he  was  of  his  own  daughters.  But  Diana  did  not  see  very 
much  of  her  uncle  except  at  breakfast  and  dinner.  In  the 
mornings  Prince  San  Rocco  was  occupied  with  his  private 
affairs,  and  soon  after  the  mid-day  breakfast  he  would 
take  a  little  gentle  exercise  about  the  streets  of  the  city, 
retiring  to  his  club  later  in  the  afternoon,  where  he  could 
play  whist,  or  talk  to  his  friends  until  it  was  time  to  re- 
turn home  to  dinner.  With  her  cousins  Giulia  and  Maria 
Petrucci,  Diana  felt  that  she  had  little  in  common,  and 
being  so  many  years  younger  than  they,  it  was  scarcely  to 
be  wondered  at  if  there  was  not  much  sympathy  between 
them.  If  the  truth  were  told,  Princess  San  Rocco's  daugh- 
ters were  not  a  little  jealous  of  Diana's  beauty,  and  had  it, 
not  been  that  they  were  able  to  console  themselves  with 
the  comfortable  assurance  that  her  good  looks  would  shortly 
be  concealed  from  the  eyes  of  men,  it  is  probable  that 
their  jealousy  would  have  been  more  strongly  manifested. 
As  it  was,  Donna  Maria  Petrucci,  the  younger  and  better- 
looking  of  the  two  sisters,  never  lost  an  opportunity  of  re- 

111 


112  DONNA   DIANA 

minding  Diana  that  the  latter  was  not  destined  to  a  worldly 
life,  and  that  she  should  strive  in  consequence  to  cultivate 
a  greater  reservation  of  demeanour.  In  fact,  Donna  Maria 
snubbed  her  cousin  whenever  she  had  an  opportunity  of 
doing  so,  and  Diana,  whose  temper  would  occasionally 
rise  in  revolt,  would  commune  with  herself  afterwards  and 
acknowledge,  perhaps  a  little  ruefully,  that  no  doubt  Maria 
was  right,  and  that  laughter  and  high  spirits  were  unbe- 
coming in  a  girl  who  was  to  be  a  cloistered  nun. 

In  her  intercourse  with  Frau  von  Eaben,  Diana  had 
grown  to  be  very  reserved.  Some  instinct  told  her  that 
the  latter  was  watching  her.  At  times  Frau  von  Eaben 
would  talk  in  a  mysteriously  sympathizing  strain,  as 
though  inviting  her  confidence.  This  perplexed  Diana 
not  a  little,  as  she  was  unconscious  of  having  anything 
definite  to  confide — either  to  Frau  von  Eaben  or  to  any- 
body else.  One  thing  she  could  not  help  noticing,  namely, 
that  neither  Frau  von  Eaben  nor  her  cousin,  Maria  Pe- 
trucci,  were  ever  weary  of  abusing  the  Englishman  whom 
Lino  had  brought  to  the  house.  It  was  very  unfair,  Diana 
thought,  to  abuse,  simply  because  he  happened  to  be  a 
foreigner,  the  man  who  had  saved  Lino's  life.  Frau  von 
Eaben  would  constantly  hold  forth  upon  the  enormities 
perpetrated  by  the  English  in  South  Africa  on  Boer  women 
and  children  as  a  proof  of  their  brutality  towards  women 
in  general  and  their  own  wives  in  particular.  Diana 
listened,  and  wondered.  It  was  strange  that  one  belong- 
ing to  such  a  race  should  have  acted  as  Mr.  Vane  had  acted 
by  her  cousin  Lino.  She  had  so  often  heard  the  latter  talk 
of  the  English  in  quite  other  terms,  and — well,  she  pre- 
ferred to  accept  Lino's  opinion  rather  than  Frau  von 
Eaben's.  Prince  San  Eocco,  too,  had  little  sympathy  with 
the  anti-English  sentiments  of  his  family,  and  dismissed 
the  tales  of  English  atrocities  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoul- 
ders, as  manufactured  in  Brussels  and  the  Hague,  and  joy- 
fully reproduced  by  such  reliable  authorities  as  the  organs, 
official  and  otherwise,  of  the  Vatican. 

Not  that  the  Principe  di  San  Eocco  was  by  any  means 


DONNA   DIANA  113 

in  harmony  with  the  majority  of  his  compatriots  of  the 
upper  class  in  his  refusal  to  credit  anti-English  canards. 
Though  the  great  mass  of  the  more  intelligent  Italians  of 
the  commercial  and  lower  classes  maintained  the  tradi- 
tional friendship  of  their  country  towards  England,  and 
took  the  accusations  of  the  journalists  and  the  priests  at 
more  or  less  than  their  true  worth,  the  so-called  aris- 
tocracy, as  a  rule,  was  too  ready  to  allow  its  total  igno- 
rance of  the  military,  political,  and  geographical  situation 
to  fan  the  flames  of  a  species  of  sentimental  enthusiasm  for 
a  small  nation  believed  to  be  fighting  only  for  the  inde- 
pendence of  its  territory. 

As  for  Diana,  the  subject  did  not  greatly  interest  her. 
It  struck  her  as  a  little  inconsistent  of  Frau  von  Eaben 
and  her  cousins  to  blame  Edmund  Vane  for  not  adding 
himself  to  the  number  of  his  brutal  compatriots  who  were 
shooting  women  and  children  in  South  Africa;  and,  more 
in  order  to  annoy  Frau  von  Raben  than  from  any  deeply- 
seated  convictions,  she  would  stoutly  affirm  her  pro-Brit- 
ish sympathies,  to  the  delight  of  the  Prince  and  the  in- 
dignation of  the  remainder  of  the  family. 

April  was  over,  and  May  had  come  with  its  long,  warm 
days  and  flower-scented  air.  The  tourists  were  leaving 
the  city  hurriedly,  possessed  by  visions  of  that  mysterious 
disease  diagnosed  by  them  as  Roman  fever,  but  by  the 
doctors  as  bilious  chill — the  result  of  overfatigue  and  hotel 
diet. 

And  with  the  departure  of  the  tourists  Rome  begins  to 
resume  her  true  life.  The  beggars  in  the  strangers'  quar- 
ter of  the  town,  who  have  been  professedly  dying  of  hun- 
ger during  the  winter  and  early  spring,  retire  with  their 
earnings  to  their  native  villages  in  the  Ciociacia,  and  the 
rest  of  the  human  parasites  who  prey  upon  the  foreigner 
disappear  with  them. 

In  the  city  are  roses — roses  everywhere.  The  sweet  yel- 
low and  white  Banksias  cluster  on  the  golden-brown  ruins 
of  ancient  palaces  and  temples,  clothing  the  russet  stems 
of  the  stone  pines,  or  peeping  from  among  the  sombre 


114  DONNA   DIANA 

foliage  of  the  cypress  in  the  gardens.  In  the  green  glades 
of  the  Villa  Borghese  and  the  Villa  Doria  the  air  resounds 
with  the  song  of  birds — liquid  notes  of  thrushes  and  black- 
birds, the  fitful  melody  of  nightingales,  or  now  and  again 
the  soft,  rich  call  of  a  golden  oriole. 

In  the  streets,  during  the  mid-day  quiet,  and  again  in 
the  stillness  of  the  night,  when  the  southern  stars  hang 
low  in  the  violet  sky  and  wandering  fire-flies  flit  through 
the  air,  the  snbdued  laughter  of  the  fountains  falls  pleas- 
antly on  the  ear.  For  Kome  is  the  City  of  Waters  as 
Florence  is  the  City  of  Flowers,  and  a  Roman  sojourning 
in  foreign  capitals  misses  above  all  other  things  the  moun- 
tain waters  that  his  ancestor  brought  across  the  Campagna 
to  gladden  the  heart  of  his  native  town. 

Of  all  the  gardens  remaining  within  the  walls  of  Rome, 
there  is  certainly  none  of  such  extent,  or  of  more  varied 
beauty,  than  that  belonging  to  the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo. 
The  tourist  and  the  sightseer  know  it  not,  nor  even  suspect 
its  existence,  for  it  is  never  shown  to  the  public,  and  lies 
in  a  quarter  of  the  city  seldom  explored  by  foreigners. 

Nevertheless,  within  its  precincts  are  groves  of  palm  and 
ilex  trees,  silent  pools  of  water,  and  flowing  streams ;  long 
vistas,  through  glades  of  roses  and  natural  arches  formed 
by  flowering  creepers  climbing  from  tree  to  tree,  to  where 
the  dark,  frowning  mass  of  the  Colosseum  blocks  the  far 
distance.  Here  and  there  rise  the  ruins  of  ancient  temples. 
The  roses  have  invaded  them  also,  and  stray  through  the 
broken  masonry,  their  delicate  petals  replacing  the  gilding 
and  the  marble.  And,  since  the  incongruous  must  ever 
be  present  in  Rome,  among  the  roses  and  the  ruins,  almost 
side  by  side  with  the  palm-trees  and  rare  flowering  shrubs, 
there  are  cabbages. 

On  an  island  in  the  centre  of  a  miniature  lake,  sur- 
rounded by  tall  palms,  and  weeping-willows  drooping  to 
the  water's  edge,  stands  a  casino  of  white  stucco  and  glass, 
the  interior  of  which  is  at  once  a  fernery  and  a  summer- 
house.  From  its  little  terrace,  access  to  which  is  given 
by  a  bridge  from  the  mainland,  stretches  away  a  view  of 


DONNA   DIANA  115 

wondrous  beauty.  To  the  right  are  the  domes  and  towers 
of  Rome,  while  to  the  left  the  soft  outline  of  the  Alban 
Hills  rises  above  the  undulating  plain  of  the  Campagna 
and  closes  the  distant  horizon. 

This  island  was  a  favourite  retreat  of  Diana  Savelli  on 
afternoons  when  she  was  able  to  avail  herself  of  Princess 
Castelnuovo's  permission  to  roam  about  in  the  gardens  of 
the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo.  Here  she  would  bring  her  books 
and  sit,  intending  to  read,  though  often  the  volume  lay 
unheeded  on  her  lap  while  her  thoughts  travelled  far  away. 
As  the  days  grew  warmer  she  came  repeatedly  to  the 
Castelnuovo  gardens,  generally  accompanied  by  Frau  von 
Eaben,  but  occasionally,  when  the  latter  was  wanted  to 
drive  her  cousins,  by  Princess  San  Rocco's  maid,  an  elderly 
female  whom  Diana  greatly  preferred  as  a  companion  to 
Frau  von  Raben.  Ersilia  did  not  talk  unless  Diana  en- 
couraged her  to  do  so,  whereas  Frau  von  Raben  was  sel- 
dom silent  for  very  long.  Moreover — and  this  fact  was 
sufficient  to  make  Diana  regard  her  with  friendliness — 
Ersilia  had  a  great  admiration  for  Don  Michelangelo  Sa- 
velli. Like  the  porter  at  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  she  had 
known  Lino  when  he  was  a  boy,  and,  in  common  with  all 
the  old  servants  of  Casa  San  Rocco,  was  devoted  to  him. 

On  this  particular  afternoon  in  May  Frau  von  Raben 
had  retired  to  bed  with,  as  she  expressed  it,  a  e  male  di  sto- 
maco' — not  a  stomach-ache,  indeed,  but  an  attack  of  in- 
digestion— and  Diana,  escorted  by  Ersilia,  had  left  the 
Palazzo  San  Rocco  about  four  o'clock,  and  had  driven  to 
the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo.  It  was  still  hot  for  walking, 
and  Diana  went  to  her  favourite  seat  on  the  island,  to  read, 
dream,  or  throw  pieces  of  biscuit  to  the  gold-fish,  and 
watch  them  fight  and  jostle  each  other  in  their  eagerness 
to  snatch  at  the  unaccustomed  delicacy. 

It  was  very  quiet  in  the  gardens.  Only  the  church  clocks 
striking  the  hour  and  the  distant  cries  of  the  street-sellers 
broke  the  stillness.  The  great  block  of  building  forming 
the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo  dominated  the  gardens  on  one 
side,  but  most  of  the  windows  were  closed,  for  Princess 


116  DONNA    DIANA 

Castelnuovo  was  absent  from  Eome.  Diana  settled  her- 
self comfortably  in  a  wicker  chair,  while  Ersilia  seated 
herself  at  a  little  distance  and  began  turning  over  the  leaves 
of  a  well-worn,  paper-covered  volume  which  she  extracted 
from  her  pocket. 

The  rustling  of  the  leaves  attracted  Diana's  attention. 
She  did  not  know  that  Ersilia  was  given  to  reading,  unless 
it  were  newspapers,  such  as  the  Messaggiero,  or  perhaps 
the  Vera  Roma. 

'  What  is  your  book,  Ersilia  ? '  she  asked  presently. 

The  latter  looked  up  with  an  apologetic  smile. 

'  Oh/  she  replied,  6  it  is  not  a  book  that  would  interest 
the  signorina ;  it  is  the  "  Libro  dei  Sogni."  To-day  is 
Friday,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  play  an  ambo  at  the 
Lotto/ 

Diana  laughed. 

'  For  shame,  Ersilia ! '  she  said.  ( You  will  only  lose 
your  money.  And  what  numbers  are  you  looking  out  in 
the  " Libro  dei  Sogni"?' 

The  woman  smiled  again  and  hesitated. 

'  It  is  a  combinazione,'  she  answered  mysteriously,  '  The 
numbers  may  come  out — who  knows? — and  then  I  shall 
win  sixty  lire.' 

'  And  what  are  your  numbers  ? '  repeated  Diana. 

Ersilia  shook  her  head  decisively. 

c  Per  carita ! '  she  exclaimed.  '  It  spoils  the  luck  to  tell 
the  numbers;  one  must  keep  them  to  one's  self  and  sleep 
upon  them.  I  do  not  often  play,  signorina;  it  is  a  fooFs 
game,  the  Lotto,  and  all  very  well  for  men.  But  this 
Saturday  I  shall  play  two  lire  on  Rome.  It  is  a  great 
deal  of  money  to  risk,  but  we  shall  see.' 

'  You  will  certainly  lose  your  two  lire,'  replied  Diana, 
smiling,  ( and  then  you  will  be  sorry,  and  you  will  call 
the  Government  bad  names,'  she  added,  returning  to  her 
own  book  once  more. 

Half  an  hour  or  so  passed,  and  presently  Ersilia  began 
to  fidget.  She  looked  at  her  watch  several  times,  and 
glanced  at  Diana  reading  a  few  paces  from  her.  Seeing 


DONNA   DIANA  117 

that  the  latter  was  absorbed  in  her  book,  the  old  servant 
rose  and  walked  quietly  away  behind  the  casino. 

6  Fifty-six  for  love  that  is  crossed,  and  thirteen  for  a 
nun/  she  murmured  to  herself.  (  Perhaps  I  am  a  fool  not 
to  play  a  terno,  but  whoever  knew  anybody  to  win  a  terno  ? 
All  the  same,  it  is  a  pity  not  to  play  on  the  Englishman.' 

And  so,  muttering  to  herself,  Ersilia  turned  down  a  side- 
path  that  led  through  the  ilex-trees,  under  which  the  shade 
was  deep  and  cool,  and  where  the  sun,  scarcely  penetrating 
between  the  sombre,  green  leaves,  cast  little  chequered 
patterns  of  light  on  the  turf  beneath.  At  the  end  of  this 
path  was  a  low,  castellated  gateway  leading  through  the 
massive  walls  by  which  the  garden  was  surrounded  into  a 
narrow  by-street  without. 

Here  she  paused  and  waited.  The  deep  tones  of  the 
church  clock  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore  near  by  struck  five, 
and  then  the  half-hour,  and  Ersilia  started  nervously. 

'  A  quarter  of  an  hour  late/  she  said  to  herself  impa- 
tiently, as  if  unpunctuality  mattered  in  Eome,  where  no- 
body is  ever  punctual,  except,  perhaps,  the  tax-collector 
and  the  patronesses  of  charity  balls. 

Suddenly  a  low  Pss-t  from  outside  the  gateway  fell  on 
her  ears,  and  Ersilia  drew  back  the  bolt  of  the  iron  door. 
At  the  same  moment  a  key  was  inserted  into  the  lock 
from  without.  The  door  was  pushed  slowly  and  cautiously 
open,  and  Lino  Savelli's  form  appeared  on  the  further 
side  of  it. 

6  And  where  is  the  other — the  Englishman  ? '  exclaimed 
Ersilia,  forgetting  formalities  in  her  excitement. 

'  Waiting — a  few  yards  away/  answered  Lino  briefly. 
'  Is  all  well,  Ersilia?  If  so,  I  will  call  him.' 

'  All  is  well,  Eccellenza/  returned  Ersilia.  '  The  signo- 
rina  is  sitting  on  the  island,  reading,  and  alone ;  madame, 
God  be  thanked!  is  in  bed,  sick,  with  a  linseed  poultice 
on  the  stomach.  His  Excellency  received  my  note?' 

6  Yes,  and  we  are  here.  It  was  too  good  an  opportunity 
to  be  lost/  returned  Lino. 

He  gave  a  low  whistle  as  he  spoke,  and  Edmund  Yane 


118  DONNA   DIANA 

appeared  from  behind  a  corner  of  the  wall  and  joined  them. 
The  door  was  closed  and  relocked,  and  then  Lino  bade 
Ersilia  leave  them  and  keep  watch  at  the  main  entrance 
into  the  garden,  lest  anybody  should  come  into  it  from  the 
house. 

'  Brava,  Ersilia ! '  said  Lino,  as  the  woman  left  them ; 
'  she  has  acted  her  part  admirably  so  far,  and  so  has  old 
Antonio.  He  got  me  the  key  for  twenty-four  hours,  you 
know,  from  Princess  Castelnuovo's  porter — for  a  considera- 
tion. I  had  a  duplicate  made,  in  order  to  be  able  to  use 
it  when  a  suitable  occasion  offered  itself.  Now,  Eddie/ 
he  added,  '  you  will  go  and  place  yourself  over  there,  among 
those  palm-trees  and  roses.  It  is  a  very  romantic  spot, 
and  you  will  wait  patiently/ 

Vane  looked  nervous  and  ill  at  ease. 

'  It  is  like  a  scene  in  a  comic  opera/  he  said,  with  a  con- 
strained laugh.  'It's  all  very  well,  Lino/  he  continued, 
'  but  I  don't  half  like  this  hole-and-corner  business.  It  is 
rather  mean,  you  know.' 

'  We  have  got  to  fight  people  with  their  own  weapons/ 
continued  Lino  Savelli,  'and  you  can  trust  your  cause  to 
me,  Eddie.  I  will  not  do  anything  mean  by  Diana,  be 
sure  of  that.  Now  go ;  we  have  no  time  to  waste ; '  and, 
without  waiting  for  a  reply,  Lino  left  him  and  walked 
in  the  direction  of  the  casino. 


CHAPTER   XI 

DIANA'S  book  had  slipped  from  her  lap  and  lay  on  the 
marble  pavement  of  the  terrace.  It  was  not  an  exciting 
volume,  being,  in  fact,  an  expurgated  edition  of  the  f  Lives 
of  the  "Saints/  lent  to  her  by  Frau  von  Raben. 

An  absorbing  interest  in  the  eccentricities  of  the  heroes 
and  heroines  of  religious  fiction  had  not  been  sustainable, 
and  Diana  had  gradually  succumbed  to  a  sleepful  sensa- 
tion for  which  it  would  be  unfair  to  hold  the  characters 
in  her  book  as  wholly  responsible. 

The  pleasant  warmth  of  the  May  afternoon,  the  sound 
of  the  water  falling  from  a  fountain  some  few  yards  away, 
the  drowsy  humming  of  bees  at  work  among  the  blossoms 
of  the  orange-trees,  had  caused  her  to  pass  unconsciously 
from  wakeful  dreams  into  the  realms  of  sleep,  nor  had 
she  noticed  that  Ersilia  was  no  longer  sitting  near  her, 
consulting  the  famous  volume  containing  the  clue  to  the 
making  of  her  fortune  at  the  State  Lottery. 

But  there  were  other  reasons  for  her  drowsiness.  For 
some  days  Diana  had  complained  of  headache  and  of  a 
general  sense  of  lassitude. 

Princess  San  Rocco  had  noticed  that  her  niece  was  look- 
ing pale,  and  had  remarked  that  a  few  weeks  of  country 
air  would  do  her  good.  It  was  only  the  beginning  of  May, 
however,  and  to  leave  Rome  for  Magnano,  the  country 
place  belonging  to  Prince  San  Rocco,  situated  some  miles 
from  Viterbo,  before  St.  Peter's  Day,  would  have  been 
contrary  to  the  custom  and  tradition  of  the  family.  So 
Princess  San  Rocco  had  only  talked  of  change  of  air,  and 
Frau  von  Raben  had  suggested  remedies  of  a  simple  yet 
drastic  character,  that,  had  she  administered  them  betimes 
to  herself,  would  have  averted  the  attack  from  which  she 
was  suffering. 

119 


120  DONNA   DIANA 

It  was  certainly  not  natural  to  Diana  to  fall  asleep  in 
the  afternoon.  Though  brief,  her  slumber  was  restless, 
and  disturbed  by  evil  dreams,  in  which  early  Christians, 
Frau  von  Raben,  and  Madame  de  Bonneval  played  prom- 
inent parts. 

Matters  had  reached  a  point  at  which  Lino  was  about 
to  be  handed  over  to  a  lion  in  the  Colosseum,  when  Diana 
awoke  with  a  little  cry  to  find  him  standing  before  her. 

She  looked  at  him  half  bewildered  for  a  moment  or  two, 
and  then,  starting  up  from  her  chair,  held  out  her  two 
hands  with  a  glad  laugh. 

6  Lino !  so  at  last  you  have  come ! '  she  exclaimed ;  then 
she  drew  back  and  stopped,  hesitating. 

'  I  remember/  she  continued  slowly.  '  I  thought  we 
were  at  home,  and  that  you  had  come  in  to  see  us.  But 
why  have  you  come  here,  Lino  ?  and  where  is  Ersilia  ? ' 

Diana  looked  round  still  half  frightened,  conscious  that 
here  was  something  unusual,  and  wondering  what  her 
cousin's  appearance  meant. 

'  Do  not  be  afraid,  Diana,'  said  Lino  gently ;  '  Ersilia 
is  not  far  away.  I  am  here  because  I  want  to  speak  to 
you.  What  has  frightened  you?  Some  silly  dream? — 
for  you  were  asleep  a  moment  ago.' 

Diana  passed  her  hand  over  her  eyes. 

'  I  suppose  I  fell  asleep,'  she  said,  '  and — yes,  it  is  com- 
ing back  to  me  now!  I  had  a  horrible  dream,  Lino — 
about  you.  They  were  going  to  kill  you — and  they  were 
giving  you  to  a  wild  beast.' 

Lino  laughed. 

'  Cara  Diana,'  he  interrupted,  '  you  seem  to  have  had  a 
very  ordinary  nightmare.' 

'Yes,'  continued  Diana;  'but,  Lino,  it  was  the  face  of 
the  creature  that  frightened  me :  it  was  horrible — Marco's 
face.  And  then  it  sprang  upon  you;  and  I  awoke,  and 
you  were  standing  and  looking  at  me;'  and  she  shud- 
dered a  little.  'Where  is  Ersilia?'  she  added.  'Ersilia 
should  be  here :  why  has  she  left  me  ? ' 

Diana  was  about  to  call  for  her,  when  Lino  interposed. 


DONNA   DIANA  121 

'  Hush ! '  he  said.  '  Do  not  call ;  she  knows  that  I  am 
with  you,  and  has  only  gone  away  while  I  am  speaking 
to  you.' 

'  But  you  should  not  be  here/  said  Diana,  looking  at 
him  doubtfully.  '  If  my  aunt  knew,  she  would  be  angry. 
How  did  you  get  into  the  garden,  Lino  ? ' 

(  Never  mind  how  I  got  in/  he  answered.  (  Now  that 
I  am  here,  I  am  going  to  stop  for  a  little  while  to  talk 
to  you/ 

'  I  wish  you  would  go/  returned  Diana  hurriedly.  '  If 
any  one  found  you  here — it  is  not  right.' 

(  There  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of/  Lino  insisted ;  '  no- 
body will  disturb  us.  I  came  here  because  there  is  no 
other  way  of  seeing  you/ 

'But  you  can  see  me  at  Palazzo  San  Kocco,  when  you 
choose  to  come/ 

'  No,  Diana,  I  cannot ! '  exclaimed  Lino.  (  They  do  not 
want  me  to  see  you.  That  is  why  I  have  stayed  away 
lately/ 

Diana  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

6  Why  should  they  not  want  you  to  see  me  ? '  she  asked 
incredulously.  '  It  is  ridiculous  to  say  that,  Lino/ 

'  My  aunt  told  me  she  did  not  want  me  in  the  house 
while  you  were  there/  returned  Lino. 

'But  why?     What  harm  could  you  do  me?' 

'  Oh,  the  harm  of  unsettling  your  mind ;  or,  rather,  the 
harm  of  trying  to  make  you  think  for  yourself,  instead 
of  allowing  others  to  think  for  you/ 

6 1  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Lino/  said  Diana,  a 
little  wearily.  Her  head  throbbed  strangely,  and  the  sen- 
sation of  malaise  that  she  had  felt  for  some  days  seemed 
to  be  more  pronounced. 

*  No ;  that  is  just  it !  you  do  not  know  what  I  mean/ 
returned  Lino.  '  Well/  he  continued,  *  I  am  going  to  try 
to  make  you  understand,  though  I'm  blessed  if  I  know 
how  to  set  about  it.  You  see,  Diana,  I  don't  want  to 
offend  you,  and,  of  course,  you  know  that  I'm  not  religious 
and  all  that  sort  of  thing/ 


122  DONNA   DIANA 

Diana  Savelli  smiled. 

'  Of  course  I  do/  he  answered.  c  I  have  heard  it  said 
a  hundred  times  a  day.  I  suppose  that  men  don't  think 
it  worth  while  to  trouble  themselves  much  about  religion 
— unless  they  are  old  or  ill.' 

Lino  glanced  at  her. 

e  Cara  la  mia  cugina ! '  he  observed.  '  Since  when  have 
you  become  cynical?' 

'  I  am  not  sure  what  being  cynical  means/  replied 
Diana ;  '  but  I  think  that  is  true.  It  is  quite  right  for 
women  to  devote  themselves  to  religion,  and  to  pray  for 
those  who  are  careless  of  it.' 

Lino  gave  an  impatient  movement.  The  ground  had 
been  well  prepared  to  receive  the  seed  cast  upon  it. 

'  And  so  you  are  going  to  shut  yourself  up  in  a  convent 
in  order  to  pray  for  them/  he  answered  gently.  'But, 
Diana,  do  you  really  believe  that  God  is  a  fetich  requiring 
perpetually  to  be  appeased  ?  Have  you  never  thought  that 
perhaps  men  need  good  women  in  the  world,  just  because 
they  are  good?' 

6  No  doubt/  replied  Diana.  '  But  there  are  plenty  of 
good  women  in  the  world.' 

'And  a  very  fair  proportion  of  bad  ones/  said  Lino 
under  his  breath. 

'  You  see/  proceeded  Diana,  '  I  am  not  good  at  all ;  in 
reality,  I  am  very  bad.  But  God  has  given  me  a  vocation 
for  religious  life — probably  to  keep  me  from  being  worse.' 

'I  understand/  said  Lino  gravely,  though  a  suspicion 
of  a  smile  hovered  round  his  lips.  '  But  supposing  you 
could  do  somebody  great  good  by  remaining  in  the  world 
— more  good  than  any  number  of  prayers  could  do — what 
then,  Diana?' 

6 There  is  no  such  person/  answered  Diana;  ' therefore 
it  is  of  no  use  to  suppose  anything  of  the  kind.  Nobody 
wants  me  in  the  world;  and  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  I  think 
the  world  must  be  a  very  tiresome  place — from  all  one 
hears  about  it.' 

'  Ah,  you  think  that  nobody  wants  you  ? '  returned  Lino 


DONNA   DIANA  123 

quickly.  '  They  have  told  you  that,  I  suppose,  among 
other  things.  But  are  you  quite  sure,  Diana  ? ' 

'  Of  course  I  am  sure !  Who  should  want  me  ?  Uncle 
San  Eocco  and  my  aunt  have  children  of  their  own,  and 
certainly  Giulia  and  Maria  don't  need  me.  But  what  is 
the  use  of  talking  of  these  things  ?  What  I  do  not  under- 
stand, Lino,  is  why  they  should  not  want  you  to  see  me. 
You  have  never  told  me  that/ 

Lino  hesitated  for  a  moment.  It  was  not  an  easy  matter 
to  approach  his  subject;  but  time  was  pressing,  and  Vane 
was  waiting  patiently  a  few  dozen  yards  away. 

6  Listen,  Diana/  he  said  at  length,  '  and  I  will  tell  you 
why.  They  were  afraid  lest  I  should  tell  you  that  some- 
body does  need  you — somebody  who  loves  you,  and  who 
wants  you  to  love  him  in  return.  Do  you  understand 
now?  I  mean  that  real  love  is  offered  to  you — -the  love 
for  which  you  were  surely  intended.  They  would  have 
kept  you  in  ignorance  of  it;  but  knowing  the  man  who 
offers  you  his  love,  and  that  he  is  worthy  of  you,  I  deter- 
mined you  should  not  remain  ignorant — that  you  should, 
at  least,  have  the  opportunity  of  choosing  for  yourself  what 
your  life  is  to  be.' 

Diana  turned  away  from  him  in  silence.  A  gudden 
wave  of  colour  passed  over  her  face,  leaving  it  as  suddenly 
pale.  It  seemed  to  Lino  that  she  trembled  a  little,  and 
leaned  against  the  marble  balustrade  at  the  water's  edge 
as  if  for  support.  Her  features  assumed  the  expression 
that  had  startled  Cardinal  Savelli  and  perplexed  Frau  von 
Eaben — the  look,  half  inquiring,  half  incredulous,  from 
under  the  slightly-bent  brow — the  suspicion  of  scorn  in 
the  curves  of  the  lips  and  finely-cut  nostrils. 

Suddenly  she  turned  again,  and  looked  at  Lino  with  a 
certain  quiet  dignity  that  had  before  now  reduced  her 
cousins  Donna  Giulia  and  Donna  Maria  to  silence. 

'  I  do  not  need  any  man's  love,'  she  said  in  a  low  voice ; 
'  and  I  do  not  know  what  it  means — this  love  that  you  all 
talk  about.' 

'  Santissimo  Dio ! '  ejaculated  Lino  Savelli  to  himself. 


124  DONNA   DIANA 

'  But  how  is  she  to  be  taught  what  it  means  ?    I  have  come 
here  to  ask  you  something,  Diana/  he  continued  quietly. 

Diana  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

f  To  do  something  for  you  ? '  she  asked. 

e  Yes,  to  do  something  for  me,  and  for  somebody  who  is 
very  dear  to  me — somebody  to  whom  I  owe  my  life/ 

Diana  drew  a  sharp  breath. 
'  *  Mr.  Vane ! '  she  said  quickly.     '  Is  it  Mr.  Vane  whom 

you  mean — the  man  whom  you  said — who 9  and  she 

stopped  short  abruptly. 

(  Come/  said  Lino,  ( let  us  walk  a  little,  and  I  will  tell 
you.  It  is  quite  true,  Diana,  he  loves  you.  Ah !  but  you 
must  get  accustomed  to  that  word;  there  is  nothing  to 
be  ashamed  of  in  the  love  of  an  honest  man,  and  you  have 
no  right  to  despise  it.  Do  you  think  that  I  would  ask 
you  to  listen  to  him  if  his  love  could  do  you  any  harm  ? ' 

'  But  it  is  useless,  Lino — useless ! '  exclaimed  Diana. 
'  I  have  told  you  this  love  is  not  for  me !  It  is  very  kind 
of  Mr.  Vane,  but  you  must  tell  him  that  it  is  impossible. 
Tell  him > 

Lino  drew  her  gently  down  the  avenue  of  ilex-trees  lead- 
ing from  the  little  lake. 

'Vane  saved  my  life/  he  repeated,  'and  he  deserves 
more  gratitude  at  our  hands  than  he  has  received.  And, 
besides/  he  added,  '  you  know  that  he  admires  you,  Diana, 
though  you  may  not  have  known  that  he  loves  you.' 

'  I  know  that  they  think  so/  answered  Diana  simply. 
6  Maria  and  Frau  von  Eaben  are  always  talking  about  it. 
But  you  must  tell  him,  Lino/ 

Lino  turned  down  a  little  by-path  that  ended  in  a 
green  glade,  above  which  waved  groups  of  tall  palm-trees. 
Masses  of  crimson  roses  clustered  about  their  stems,  strew- 
ing the  grass  beneath  with  their  fallen  petals. 

*  No,  Diana/  he  replied,  '  I  will  tell  him  nothing.  He 
is  here  to  plead  his  own  cause  with  you,  and  it  is  you 
who  must  tell  him  your  decision  when  you  have  heard 
what  he  has  got  to  say/ 


CHAPTER   XII 

DIANA  started  back  as  Lino  uttered  the  last  words,  and 
half  turned  as  though  to  seek  refuge  in  flight. 

6  Here ! '  she  exclaimed — f  Mr.  Vane  here ! '  and  then 
she  looked  at  Lino  in  helpless  bewilderment. 

Before  she  had  recovered  from  her  dismay  Vane  stood 
before  her.  Diana's  eyes  remained  as  though  riveted  to 
the  turf  beneath  her  feet,  and  her  colour  came  and 
went  rapidly.  Edmund  Vane,  hat  in  hand,  stood  silent- 
ly looking  at  her.  For  a  moment  or  two  not  a  word 
was  spoken  by  any  one  of  the  three.  Even  a  nightin- 
gale singing  to  his  mate  sitting  on  her  nest  in  the  un- 
dergrowth below  him  ceased  his  song,  perhaps  from 
curiosity  to  watch  how  human  beings  conducted  their  love 
affairs. 

At  length  Diana  raised  her  eyes  from  the  ground  and 
spoke. 

6  Lino/  she  said  hurriedly,  ( you  should  not  have  brought 

me  here.  You  and  Mr.  Vane  should  not  have  come ' 

and  then  she  broke  off  abruptly,  conscious  that  her  cousin 
had  disappeared. 

(  Donna  Diana/  said  Edmund  appealingly,  c  do  not  be 
angry  with  Lino  or  with  me;  indeed,  indeed,  there  was  no 
other  way  to  speak  with  you/ 

Diana's  eyes  flashed  with  sudden  fire;  her  presence  of 
mind  was  returning  to  her,  and  with  it  her  spirit. 

'But  there  was  no  necessity  to  speak  with  me/  she  re- 
plied coldly,  though  her  voice  trembled.  'You  do  not 
understand,  perhaps,  for  you  are  a  foreigner.  With  us 
such  things  are  not  allowed,  and — and  they  are  wrong/ 
she  concluded  a  little  lamely. 

*  Your  cousin  is  not  a  foreigner/  said  Edmund  quietly. 

125 


126  DONNA   DIANA 

'  and  he  knows  your  customs,  yet,  Donna  Diana,  he  brought 
me  here/ 

Diana  Savelli  made  no  reply. 

'It  is  you  who  do  not  understand/  Vane  continued. 
'  Will  you  be  patient  and  listen  for  a  little  while  ?  I  know 
that  my  being  here  must  seem  to  you  an  intrusion,  an  im- 
pertinence ;  that  men  in  your  country  do  not  speak  to  young 
girls  of  their  love  for  them  unless ' 

'I  have  nothing  to  do  with  love/  interrupted  Diana  in 
a  low  voice. 

Vane  looked  at  her,  and  as  he  looked  he  almost  smiled. 
The  assertion  was  belied  by  the  lips  that  uttered  it. 

'  Forgive  me/  he  returned,  '  but  how  do  you  know  ? ' 

Once  again  Diana  was  silenced.^  Then  a  quick  sense  of 
resentment  took  possession  of  her. 

There  was  something  in  this  Englishman  that  she  had 
never  before  experienced — something  masterful  that  -at 
once  roused  her  pride.  Yet  she  was  conscious  of  a  strange 
thrill  of  satisfaction,  and  her  anger  turned  against  her- 
self because  of  it. 

'  How  do  you  know  ? '  replied  Vane,  and  his  eyes  sought 
hers  as  he  spoke.  'You  do  not  know  at  all;  that  is  the 
ridiculous  part  of  the  whole  business.' 

Diana  beat  her  foot  on  the  turf. 

6  Kidiculous ! '  she  exclaimed. 

'  But  certainly.  Do  you  call  that  cold,  pale  shadow  you 
are  worshipping  love?  Oh,  I  know  wrhat  you  have  been 
told;  I  have  heard  it  all  before.  Kemember  that  I  am 
a  Catholic,  and  that  I  have  a  sister  who  became  a  nun.' 

Diana  became  interested.  There  was  much  of  the  child 
in  her  yet,  and  something,  perhaps,  of  a  child's  cunning. 
She  felt  instinctively  that  here  was  a  safer  subject  for  dis- 
cussion. 

( Tell  me  about  her/  she  said. 

e  She  became  a  nun  because — well,  because  she  had  a  bad 
temper  and  quarrelled  with  her  lover.  I  hope  you  will 
not  become  a  nun  if  you  have  a  bad  temper,  Donna  Diana, 
and -' 


DONNA   DIANA  127 

The  rest  of  the  sentence  remained  unspoken,  but  Diana 
felt  his  eyes  reading  her  face. 

'  Oh ! '  she  said  as  he  paused. 

It  was  not  a  very  intelligent  observation,  but  she  could 
think  of  nothing  else  to  say. 

( It  is  quite  true/  proceeded  Edmund  gravely.  '  It  was 
very  foolish  of  her,  but  she  thought  she  had  a  vocation. 
And  you — you  also  think  you  have  a  vocation,  do  you  not  ? ' 

His  tone  had  lost  that  touch  of  insistence  which  had 
roused  such  mingled  feelings  in  Diana's  mind.  It  was 
gentle  and  tender,  though  Diana  thought  that  she  detected 
incredulity  in  it.  Confidence  came  back  to  her.  This 
friend  of  Lino's  was  certainly  easy  to  talk  to,  and  he  did 
not  say  things  she  had  dreaded  to  hear,  even  though  she 
did  not  know  what  they  might  be.  If  only  her  head 
would  stop  throbbing  and  that  strange  feeling  of  un- 
easiness would  leave  her! 

'But  I  have  a  vocation/  she  began  almost  pleadingly. 
'You  say  you  are  a  Catholic,  so  you  will  understand.  I 
heard  my  aunt  say  that  you  would/ 

'  Ah ! '   exclaimed  Edmund. 

6 1  have  always  had  it — for  so  many  years.  Of  course, 
God  meant  me  to  live  for  him.  Lino  said  just  now  that 
you — that ' 

'Yes?'  said  Vane  very  gently — 'what  did  Lino  say?' 

'That  you  wanted  to  speak  to  me  about — about  love; 
well,  I > 

She  staggered  a  little  and  put  her  hand  to  her  head, 
and  Edmund  saw  that  she  had  become  very  pale. 

Taking  her  hand,  he  drew  her  quietly  to  a  seat  under 
the  palm-trees  a  few  paces  away. 

'  You  are  tired,  Donna  Diana/  he  said.  '  Sit  down 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  stand  near  you.' 

Diana  suffered  him  to  lead  her  to  the  seat  unresist- 
ingly, apparently  unconscious  that  her  hand  was  resting 
in  his.  Vane  was  not  unconscious  of  it;  a  thrill  passed 
through  him,  and  he  had  need  of  all  his  mastery  over 
himself. 


128  DONNA   DIANA 

*  It  is  nothing,'  said  Diana ;  c  but  I  felt  giddy,  and  my 
head  pains  me.  What  I  wanted  to  say  was  that  it  is  of 
no  use  to  talk  to  me  about — about  love.  It  is  very  kind 
of  you  to  think  of  me,  but  it  is  better  that  you  should 
know.  I  have  never  thought  about  the  love  of  human 
beings.  Perhaps  you  do  not  understand,  for  you  are  a 
man.' 

Vane  looked  at  her,  a  look  of  mingled  longing  and 
reverence.  She  was  so  far  above  him,  he  thought  almost 
with  shame — so  far  above  any  man  in  her  simple,  trust- 
ing purity.  What  if  she  were  right,  if  she  were  being 
called  by  a  higher  love? 

He  continued  to  gaze  at  her  in  silence  for  a  few 
moments,  and  as  he  did  so  his  mind  went  back  to  the 
days  of  his  childhood.  The  stories  he  had  heard  of  the 
love  of  Christ  and  of  the  Madonna  and  the  saints  re- 
turned to  him.  He  had  been  very  happy  in  those  days, 
and  heaven  had  seemed  a  familiar  place,  very  near  the 
nursery. 

A  sudden  burst  of  soft,  glad  melody  from  the  rose- 
thickets  near  by  interrupted  his  train  of  thoughts.  The 
nightingale  had  resumed  its  song,  and  the  passionate, 
triumphant  notes  fell  on  Vane's  ear  like  a  protest. 

'I  understand/  he  said;  'but  you — how  can  I  make 
you  'understand  without  offending  you?  If  you  were 
older,  if  you  had  passed  through  love  and  had  found  it 
bitter,  you  would  have  some  right  to  do  this  thing,  to 
shut  yourself  away  from  the  world.  But  you  have  never 
thought  that  the  world  may  want  you,  and  that  God  did 
not  put  you  into  it  for  nothing.' 

c  God  wants  me/  replied  Diana  simply. 

'Oh— and  for  what?' 

Diana  looked  up  at  him  quickly.  The  tone  of  his  voice 
was  brusque,  almost  impatient. 

6  For  Himself/  she  said  slowly,  '  and  to  pray  to  Him  for 
those  who  are  in  the  world.  That  is  why  I  have  no  need 
of  any  man's  love.  Why,  it  would  not  be  right  for  me 
even  to  think  of  it.' 


DONNA   DIANA  129 

Vane  bit  his  lips.  Surely  it  was  useless  to  attempt  to 
contend  against  this  foregone  conclusion  on  Diana's  part. 
Was  anything  human  left  in  her,  he  wondered ;  and  if  so, 
how  could  he  arouse  it  into  consciousness  without  offence 
against  a  purity  that  even  while  it  exasperated  him  com- 
manded his  admiration  ? 

It  did  more  than  command  his  admiration,  indeed;  for, 
by  one  of  the  numerous  ironies  lurking  in  human  destiny, 
purity  is  often  the  fuel  that  feeds  desire. 

'  But  if  you  have  never  known  a  man's  love ! '  he  ex- 
claimed suddenly.  '  Who  has  there  been  to  teach  you 
what  love  may  be?  Will  your  dead  Christ  teach  you,  or 
the  saints?  They  will  take  your  love,  but  what  will  they 
give  you  in  return,  unless  it  be  self-satisfaction  ? ' 

Diana  winced  as  though  he  had  struck  her. 

'  You  have  no  right  to  say  such  things — you  are  a  Cath- 
olic ! '  she  answered  indignantly. 

Vane  laughed  a  little  bitterly. 

'  And  you/  he  returned, '  have  no  right  to  sacrifice  your- 
self on  the  altar  of  an  imaginary  love.  Will  you  listen 
patiently,  Donna  Diana?  I  love  you,  and  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  tell  you  so.  I  am  not  asking  you  whether 
you  love  me.  I  know  that  you  do  not — that  you  cannot 
love  me.  But  I  want  you  to  know  that  in  this  world 
which  you  are  going  to  renounce  love  is  waiting  for  you, 
should  you  ever  care  to  accept  it.  You  have  three  years 
before  you  in  which  to  make  up  your  mind — three  years 
before  you  need  take  those  final  vows  that  must  separate 
you  from  all  earthly  love,  from  all  natural  joys  and  inter- 
ests. It  may  be  that  in  the  course  of  these  three  years  you 
may  see  things  in  a  different  light.  You  may  come  to  un- 
derstand that  God  does  not  always  require  the  sacrifice  of 
our  human  nature  which  He  has  created;  that  love  is  not 
the  least  of  the  blessings  He  has  given  to  the  world.  If 
you  should  ever  come  to  feel  this,-  if  you  should  ever  have 
reasons  to  suspect  that  your  vocation  for  religion  is  due 
not  so  much  to  the  dictates  of  conscience  as  to  the  sugges- 
tion of  those  by  whom  you  are  surrounded,  will  you 


130  DONNA   DIANA 

think  of  me  and  of  the  love  I  offer  you?  That  is  all  I 
have  come  here  to  ask  of  you/ 

In  his  eagerness  Vane  had  drawn  nearer  to  the  wooden 
bench  on  which  Diana  was  sitting.  He  stood  over  her,  and 
his  eyes  looked  down  steadfastly  and  frankly  into  hers. 
Something  in  their  gaze  seemed  to  hold  Diana  as  though 
enchained,  and  for  a  few  moments  she  returned  it  in 
silence. 

Only  the  nightingale  sang  louder.  There  was  no  other 
sound  save  the  rustling  of  the  palm-leaves  stirred  by  the 
evening-breeze,  the  gentle  murmur  of  a  fountain,  and  the 
distant  noise  of  the  traffic  in  the  streets.  Deep,  purple 
shadows  were  creeping  stealthily  across  the  slopes  of  the 
Campagna  to  the  Alban  Hills,  still  bathed  in  golden  light, 
while  in  the  nearer  foreground  the  fragments  of  ruined 
temples  and  the  vast  semi-circle  of  the  Colosseum  were 
clothing  themselves  in  tints  that  slowly  changed  from  pink 
to  rosiest  red  as  the  sun  sank  lower  towards  the  heights 
of  Monte  Mario. 

With  an  effort  Diana  Savelli  withdrew  her  gaze  from 
Vane's  face.  She  was  conscious  of  the  effort — a  strange 
consciousness  that  caused  her  a  vague  sensation  of  wonder, 
a  feeling  as  though  some  chord  had  been  struck  that 
touched  an  answering  note  in  her,  calling  forth  a  thrill 
half  of  pleasure  and  half  of  pain. 

She  shrank  back  from  him,  trembling  a  little,  and  very 
gently  Edmund  took  her  hand. 

6 Donna  Diana/  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  'will  you  do 
what  I  ask  you?  It  is  not  so  very  much  to  ask.  If  you 
remain  convinced  that  the  course  you  have  decided  upon 
will  bring  you  happiness,  I  will  never  attempt  to  turn 
you  from  it.  But  if,  as  time  goes  on,  your  convictions 
should  become  less  sure,  will  you  remember  the  love  I 
offer  you,  and  consider  whether  it  also  may  not  bring 
you  happiness  ? ' 

Diana  withdrew  her  hand  from  his,  neither  did  Edmund 
seek  to  retain  it.  Something  in  Vane's  manner,  tender 
and  respectful  at  the  same  time,  touched  her  strangely; 


DONNA   DIANA  131 

while  his  fear,  evident  even  to  her  inexperience,  lest  his 
words  should  offend  her,  inspired  her  with  trust  in  him. 
She  could  understand  now  the  affection  which  existed  be- 
tween her  cousin  Lino  and  Mr.  Vane.  He  was  thinking 
of  her  happiness  before  his  own,  as  he  had  thought  of 
Lino's  safety  when  the  latter  was  lying  at  death's  door 
in  a  savage  land,  .rather  than  of  his  own.  The  abuse  she 
had  so  often  heard  showered  upon  him  of  late  seemed 
doubly  unjust  to  her.  Nobody  knew  him  as  he  really  was, 
except  Lino  and — this  last  thought  was  accompanied  by 
a  little  touch  of  feminine  pride — herself. 

There  was  more  of  sympathy  than  shyness  in  Diana 
Savelli's  glance  as  she  answered  him. 

e  I  do  not  know  why  you  should  offer  me  your  love/ 
she  said  simply,  'and  I  am  sorry — ah  yes,  believe  me, 
I  am  very  sorry — for  I  do  not  want  you  to  think  me  un- 
grateful. It  is  not  that;  but  I  am  different  from  other 
girls,  you  know:  I  have  this  vocation,  and  I  cannot  and 
dare  not  disobey  it.  It  must  be  a  good  thing,  I  think, 
that  other  love,  when  it  comes  from  honourable  men  like 
you;  but  you  must  give  it  to  somebody  who  can  return 
it,  and  you  must  not  think  of  me/ 

'  You  cannot  forbid  me  to  think  of  you/  Vane  replied. 

Diana  shook  her  head. 

( But  you  should  not  do  so/  she  said  gravely.  '  It  is 
not  right — any  more  than  it  would  be  right  for  me  to 
think  of  you.  You  must  remember/  she  added  with  a 
slight  smile,  'that  I  belong  to  God.  It  is  as  though  I 
were  fiancee — no?' 

Edmund  started.  He  recollected  how  Princess  San 
Rocco  had  used  this  same  expression,  and  the  simile  that 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  had  employed  in  connection  with 
it.  A  vision  rose  up  before  him  of  this  girl,  decked  in 
her  bridal  clothes,  passing  through  the  mockery  of  the 
bridal  ceremony — a  ceremony  grotesque  were  it  not  for 
its  pitiful  tragedy,  rendered  the  more  pitiful  by  the  ac- 
quiescence of  the  victim.  For  a  moment  the  man  tri- 
umphed over  the  Catholic. 


132  DONNA    DIANA 

*  No ! '  he  burst  out  impetuously,  '  and  a  thousand  times 
no!  What  you  are  saying  is  nothing  but  a  vile  subter- 
fuge— a  gloss  invented  by  the  priests  to  hide  the  outrage 
committed  on  human  nature  in  the  name  of  Him  who 
gave  that  nature.  Ah,  dear,  will  you  not  use  your  own 
reason — your  own  eyes?  Will  you  not  read  what  God  is 
writing  all  around  you?  Those  devils,  they  have  told  you 
that  Christ  is  to  be  your  bridegroom;  and  you — because 
you  are  good  and  pure — you  believe  them ! ' 

Vane  checked  himself  abruptly,  conscious  that  his  pas- 
sion was  hurrying  him  on  to  say  things  better  left  unsaid. 

Diana  looked  at  him  doubtfully.  He  had  expected  her 
to  be  angry,  but  he  read  only  wonder  in  her  eyes. 

'  Forgive  me,  Donna  Diana,  he  continued.  e  I  was 
wrong  to  speak  to  you  like  that,  but  you  cannot  underj 
stand.  If  you  told  me  that  you  were  going  to  give  your- 
self to  another  man — well,  I  would  rather  hear  that  from 
you.' 

She  leaned  back  on  the  seat,  and  was  silent  for  a 
moment. 

'  There  is  nothing  to  forgive,'  she  said  at  length,  a  little 
wearily.  '  I  think  you  speak  so  because— because  you 
wish  me  well.  But  you  do  not  believe  in  my  vocation. 
Why  do  you  not,  when  everybody  else  believes  in  it?' 

Vane  hesitated.  How  should  he  answer  her,  or  tell  her 
all  his  thoughts? 

'Your  cousin  Lino  does  not  believe  in  it,'  he  replied, 
after  a  pause. 

'Lino?  Oh,  but  Lino  is  different.  It  is  very  dread- 
ful, but  he  does  not  believe  in  any  of  those  things.  But 
it  is  quite  true — I  belong  to  God.  As  I  said  before,  you 
must  not  think  me  ungrateful;  and  I — I  am  glad  to 
think  that  you — like  me/ 

Vane's  eyes  brightened. 

'  You  are  glad  ? '  he  exclaimed. 

'  But  yes !  you  are  Lino's  friend.  I  know  how  much  he 
likes  you,  and  all  you  did  for  him.' 

Edmund's  face  fell  suddenly. 


DONNA   DIANA  133 

1  Ah,  it  is  for  Lino's  sake ! 9  he  said.  '  Well,  even  that 
is  better  than  nothing,  Donna  Diana,  But  I  want  more 
than  that.  You  know  what  I  asked  you  to  do  for  me  just 
now?' 

'  That,  if  I  ever  change  my  mind,  I  would  remember 
what  you  have  offered  me  ? '  said  Diana  slowly. 

'  Yes/ 

She  looked  at  him  gravely  and  steadily. 

'  I  will  promise  that/  she  continued ;  '  but  you  must 
not  think  I  shall  change  my  mind.  All  the  same,  I  shall 
never  forget.' 

Vane  took  her  hand  and  raised  it  for  a  moment  to  his 
lips. 

'  That  is  all  I  ask  of  you,'  he  said  very  gently.  '  And  I, 
too — I  shall  never  forget ! ' 

And  then  he  left  her,  and  passed  across  the  lawn  among 
the  palm-trees  and  the  roses  towards  the  gate  by  which  he 
and  Lino  Savelli  had  entered  the  gardens. 

The  latter  was  waiting  for  him  impatiently. 

'  We  have  been  here  long  enough,  Eddie,'  he  exclaimed, 
'  and  I  have  smoked  at  least  a  dozen  cigarettes  while  you 
and  Diana  have  been  talking  nonsense  to  each  other.  It 
is  all  horribly  improper,  and  you  seem  to  have  forgotten 
that  you  are  not  in  England.' 

He  looked  at  Vane  curiously  as  he  spoke,  and  the  latter 
laughed  nervously. 

'  I  don't  think  we  talked  much  nonsense,'  he  replied. 

'  I  am  glad  of  that,'  said  Lino  dryly.  ( But  may  one 
know  the  result  of  the  conversation?  Are  you  and  Diana 
going  to  ask  me  to  help  you  to  run  away  with  each 
other?' 

Vane  shook  his  head. 

( If  Donna  Diana  ever  needs  a  man's  love,'  he  answered, 
'  she  knows  now  where  to  find  it.  But,'  he  added,  '  I  don't 
think  she  ever  will  need  it.  They  have  killed  her  woman's 
nature.' 

Lino  smiled. 

'Vedremo/  he  said,  '  nature,  especially  our  Italian  na- 


134  DONNA   DIANA 

ture,  is  not  so  easy  to  kill.  That  Diana's  nature  is  numbed 
and  deadened  is  very  probable;  but  we  must  continue  to 
fight  the  influences  that  are  paralyzing  it.' 

At  this  moment  Ersilia  joined  them.  From  the  posi- 
tion she  had  taken  up  on  the  steps  of  the  palace  she  had 
seen  Vane  leave  the  group  of  palms. 

'  The  signorino  said  ten  minutes/  she  grumbled,  looking 
at  Lino  disapprovingly,  '  and  the  clocks  have  struck  the 
quarter  three  times.  It  is  a  thing  unheard  of,'  she  added, 
'  and  their  Excellencies  will  please  to  go  at  once,  before 
harm  comes  of  it.' 

She  opened  the  door,  and  peered  cautiously  up  and  down 
the  narrow  street.  Only  a  cart  laden  with  artichokes  was 
visible,  and  a  lad  beside  it  singing  to  himself. 

e  For  the  love  of  God,  go ! '  she  exclaimed,  almost  push- 
ing the  two  men  through  the  gateway.  '  I  go  back  to  the 
signorina;  she  should  be  at  home  by  now.' 

She  found  Diana  sitting  where  Vane  had  left  her.  The 
-girl  was  very  pale  and  sat  looking  straight  before  her,  ap- 
parently lost  in  thought. 

'  It  is  certain  that .  she  has  been  listening  to  other  tales 
than  those  of  the  Madonna  and  the  saints,'  said  Ersilia  to 
herself.  '  And  a  very  good  thing,  too/  she  added,  f  so  long 
as  nothing  else  has  happened;  but  that  is  impossible,  for 
the  Englishman  is  not  a  mascalzone.' 

Diana  started  as  the  woman  approached  her. 

'I  am  going  home,  Ersilia/  she  said,  'and  you  did 
wrong  to  let  them  come.' 

Ersilia  looked  at  her  confusedly. 

6  It  was  no  harm/  she  said ;  '  Don  Michelangelo  and  the 
other  wanted  to  see  you  so  much — I  had  not  the  heart  to 
refuse  them,  signorina/ 

*  It  was  wrong/  repeated  Diana,  '  but  since  they  have 
come  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  I  will  not  come  here 
again,  Ersilia — these  gardens  are  not  healthy.  I  feel  so 
ill  that  I  am  sure  I  have  the  fever,  and  my  head  throbs  so.' 

She  shivered  as  she  spoke,  though  Ersilia,  taking  one  of 
her  hands,  found  it  burning  hot. 


DONNA   DIANA  135 

'Let  us  come  at  once,  signorina/  said  the  latter,  and 
they  left  the  gardens  together,  the  porter  letting  them  out 
through  the  court-yard  of  the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo. 

'  It  must  certainly  be  a  terno/  said  Ersilia  to  herself 
as  they  drove  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco.  '  Love,  a  nun 
and  an  Englishman;  the  devil  is  in, the  middle  of  it  if 
the  numbers  do  not  come  out  to-morrow.  But  two  lire 
are  a  great  deal  of  money.' 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MONSIGNOR  TOMEI  belonged  to  the  Church  Militant. 

The  pen  being  mightier  than  the  sword,  and  also  much 
safer,  he  preferred  the  former  weapon,  and  had  succeeded 
in  making  some  reputation  for  himself  in  the  ranks  of 
Italian  clerical  journalists.  His  particular  province  in 
Catholic  journalism  might  have  been  described  as  finan- 
cial rather  than  political;  although,  in  recent  years,  the 
haute  politique  and  the  haute  finance  of  the  infallible 
Church  have  become  strangely  dependent  on  each  other, 
and  prices  have  risen  since  Christ  was  sold  for  thirty  pieces 
of  silver. 

Monsignor  Tomei,  indeed,  owed  his  honorary  title  of 
monsignore  to  his  ability  in  writing  up  spiritual  specu- 
lations in  a  manner  so  convincing  as  to  contribute  to  their 
pecuniary  success. 

Besides  his  journalistic  occupations,  Monsignor  Tomei 
filled  the  office  of  deputato  ecdesiastico  to  more  than  one 
conventual  establishment — a  post  best  defined  as  that  of 
financial  manager  and  adviser  to  female  religious  com- 
munities in  need  of  a  man  of  business  who  is  at  the  same 
time  a  priest. 

Monsignor  Tomei  inhabited  a  little  apartment  on  the 
third  floor  of  a  house  in  the  Via  della  Croce,  consisting 
of  a  bedroom  and  sitting-room,  and  a  small  kitchen,  out 
of  which  opened  a  still  smaller  room  occupied  by  the 
woman  who  acted  as  his  housekeeper,  cook,  and  general 
attendant. 

Like  Mrs.  Tinker  at  Sir  Pitt  Crawley's  mansion  in 
Great  Gaunt  Street,  Monsignor  Tomei's  housekeeper  gen- 
erally ' dined  with  the  family'  when  he  was  alone — and, 
unless  they  came  on  business,  Monsignor  Tomei  rarely  had 
visitors. 

136 


DONNA   DIANA  137 

It  was  an  hour  after  mid-day,  and  the  family  had  dined 
off  a  large  dish  of  rice,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  scat- 
tered morsels  of  the  interior  organs  belonging  to  more 
than  one  species  of  animal;  a  frittura,  also  composed  of 
interiors  with  an  occasional  piece  of  exterior  flesh;  a  dish 
of  artichokes  fried  in  oil — alia  Giudea,  or  according  to  the 
Jewish  taste ;  a  piece  of  Gorgonzola  cheese,  and  a  consider- 
able quantity  of  red  wine  of  the  Castelli  Komani. 

Monsignor  Tomei  had  retired  into  his  sitting-room,  leav- 
ing his  housekeeper  to  clear  away  the  empty  plates  and 
dishes  and  sweep  the  breadcrumbs  off  the  wine-stained 
tablecloth.  It  was  the  room  in  which  he  received  such 
as  came  to  consult  him  upon  their  temporal  affairs.  The 
only  signs  of  his  priestly  calling  were  a  crucifix  occupy- 
ing a  prominent  position  over  the  writing-table,  and  a  pic- 
ture of  the  Assumption,  that  left  the  beholder  in  some 
doubt  as  to  whether  the  original  model  selected  by  the 
artist  to  represent  the  central  figure  had  been  altogether 
justified  in  sitting  for  the  subject. 

The  writing-table  itself  was  as  untidy  and  unpractical 
as  is  so  often  the  case  with  the  writing-tables  of  Italian 
business  men.  An  ink-bottle  standing  in  a  dirty  white 
saucer  and  a  few  impossible-looking  steel-nibbed  pens 
formed  its  furniture.  In  the  place  of  blotting-paper,  a 
second  saucer  containing  some  sand  stood  in  the  midst 
of  letters,  pamphlets,  and  newspaper  cuttings.  The  cruci- 
fix looked  decidedly  out  of  place  among  its  surroundings, 
but  Monsignor  Tomei  was  of  opinion,  and  perhaps  rightly 
so,  that  it  inspired  his  clients  with  confidence. 

The  mid-day  meal  completed,  it  was  the  hour  when 
Monsignor  Tomei  was  in  the  habit  of  indulging  in  a  siesta. 
He  settled  himself  in  his  arm-chair,  and,  placing  a  sec- 
ond chair  in  front  of  him,  put  his  large  feet  upon  it.  His 
soutane  was  scarcely  adapted  to  a  recumbent  posture,  for 
the  ends  of  a  pair  of  long  white  drawers,  tied  at  the  ex- 
tremities by  pieces  of  tape,  protruded  beyond  its  dusty, 
black  edges.  When,  after  smoking  the  half  of  a  black 
toscano  cigar,  he  felt  sleep  overpowering  him,  he  would 


138  DONNA  DIANA 

place  his  snuff-stained  silk  pocket-handkerchief  lightly 
over  his  face. 

But  to-day  sleep  did  not  seem  inclined  to  visit  Mon- 
signor  Tomei.  He  had  spent  a  busy  morning.  The  nuns 
of  a  convent,  the  affairs  of  which  he  managed,  had  laid 
up  for  themselves  treasure  in  this  world  in  the  shape  of 
a  house  and  church  in  an  eligible  quarter  of  Rome.  The 
property  in  question  had  been  bought  from  another  relig- 
ious community,  which,  owing  to  a  lack  of  interest  on  the 
part  of  the  faithful  in  its  patron  saint,  had  found  itself 
involved  in  pecuniary  difficulties.  The  saint,  'indeed,  was 
no  longer  in  fashion ;  he  had  become  a  bore — an  unpardon- 
able error  in  a  saint.  The  convent  buildings  had  been 
completed  and  occupied,  but  the  church  attached  to  them 
remained  half  built,  the  Superior  of  the  community  being 
well  aware  that  an  unfinished  church  was  more  likely  to 
appeal  to  the  pockets  of  the  faithful  than  an  unfinished 
residence.  But  it  was  after  the  disposal  of  their  property 
that  pecuniary  troubles  had  arisen.  The  purchasers,  as 
time  went  on,  fell  into  arrear  in  the  payment  of  the  instal- 
ments of  the  purchase-money,  and  finally  found  themselves 
unable  to  pay  at  all.  Then  followed  disputes,  -and,  on  the 
part  of  the  vendors,  threats  of  eviction  and  appeals  to  the 
Italian  law-courts.  At  a  critical  moment  the  Reverend 
Mother  of  the  defaulting  community  had  sought  the  ad- 
vice and  assistance  of  Monsignor  Tomei,  who  had  been 
formally  appointed  deputato  ecdesiastico  to  the  convent. 
It  was  to  the  interests  of  both  parties  to  find  a  way  out  of 
the  difficulties  if  possible,  and  this  without  having  re- 
course to  the  Italian  tribunals,  the  more  so  because,  partly 
from  a  reluctance  to  acknowledge  the  authority  of  Italian 
civil  institutions  in  Rome,  but  still  more  from  a  desire 
to  evade  the  duties  levied  by  the  Government  on  the  sale  of 
their  property,  the  transfer  of  the  latter  had  never  been 
legally  registered,  and  the  actual  occupants  were  therefore, 
in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  rightful  possessors  of  land  and 
fabrics  for  which  they  had  never  paid. 

Monsignor  Tomei  had  spent  an  anxious  and  somewhat 


DONNA   DIANA  139 

stormy  morning  at  the  convent  in  question,  which  occu- 
pied a  site  where  a  few  years  ago  the  cypress  and  ilex-trees 
of  a  famous  villa  cast  their  grateful  shade  over  cool  glades, 
now  replaced  by  broad  modern  thoroughfares;  where,  in- 
stead of  the  song  of  birds  and  the  murmur  of  fountains, 
the  rattle  of  wheels  and  the  discordant  clanging  of  the 
gongs  of  electric  trams  fall  hideously  on  the  ear. 

The  representatives  of  the  contending  parties  had  met — 
not  exactly  in  the  spirit  of  charity,  and  still  less  in  accord- 
ance with  the  teaching  of  certain  parables  to  be  found  in 
Holy  Writ — and  Monsignor  Tomei  had  striven  to  tem- 
porize on  behalf  of  the  nuns  for  whom  he  acted. 

One  of  the  chief  difficulties  with  which  he  had  to  deal 
was  the  fact  that  the  nuns  had  improved  the  property. 
They  had,  indeed,  completed  the  building  of  the  church, 
thereby  impoverishing  themselves  to  the  extent  of  being 
unable  to  complete  the  payments  for  their  tenement.  It 
soon  became  clear  to  Monsignore  Tomei  that  the  nuns  had 
been  far  from  wise,  for  their  creditors  were  doubly  anxious 
to  regain  possession  of  an  improved  tenement. 

Nevertheless,  scandal  must  be  avoided  if  it  were  possible 
to  avoid  it.  Such  were  the  orders  from  official  quarters, 
not  to  be  ignored  or  disobeyed. 

Monsignor  Tomei  did  not  remember  having  had  to  deal 
with  a  more  complicated  piece  of  business.  He  had  used 
every  argument  to  induce  the  aggrieved  community  in 
question  to  delay  taking  any  action  against  the  Mother  Su- 
perior of  the  convent  until  he  should  have  exhausted  every 
effort  to  find  money  sufficient  at  least  to  pay  up  the  ar- 
rears already  owing,  if  not  to  guarantee  the  remainder  of 
the  sum  still  due.  If  he  had  been  successful  in  delaying 
any  extreme  measures  being  taken,  it  was  largely  owing 
to  the  reputation  he  possessed  of  being  an  able  man  of 
business,  and  to  the  fact  of  his  being  known  to  be  in  Car- 
dinal Savelli's  confidence.  The  latter,  indeed,  had  brought 
his  influence  to  bear  on  the  creditors  in  favour  of  the 
Mother  Superior.  He  had  advocated  delay  in  taking  legal 
proceedings,  and  suggested  that  some  compromise  might 


140  DONNA   DIANA 

be  arrived  at  whereby  the  scandal  of  publicity  might  be 
avoided. 

It  is  all  very  well,  however,  to  talk  of  compromise  and 
delay.  The  nuns  had  no  money  left  to  pay  the  daily  ex- 
penses of  life,  so  great  had  been  their  eagerness  to  finish 
and  decorate  their  church.  It  had  not  seemed  good  to  the 
Mother  Superior  that  the  house  of  the  community  should 
be  complete  in  every  detail,  while  the  House  of  God  lacked 
a  roof  and  much  else  besides. 

Cardinal  Savelli  had  sympathized  with  the  nuns  in  the 
matter,  and  had  even  encouraged  them  to  resume  building 
operation  on  the  church,  but  Monsignor  Tomei  did  not 
look  at  bricks  and  mortar  with  a  spiritual  eye. 

Had  he  been  consulted  at  the  time,  he  certainly  would 
have  advised  the  Mother  Superior  to  continue  the  policy 
of  the  former  possessors  of  the  convent,  and  allow  its  roof- 
less church  to  stand  as  a  reproach  to  the  God-fearing 
public. 

Monsignor  Tomei  puffed  at  his  cigar  and  moved  rest- 
lessly in  his  chair.  He  did  not  care  about  the  nuns,  and 
he  certainly  did  not  care  about  the  body  of  foreign  monks 
which  was  proposing  to  evict  them  from  their  convent. 
But  he  did  care  about  the  commission  he  would  have  re- 
ceived had  he  been  able  to  bring  the  matter  to  a  settlement. 
He  did  not  advise  his  clients  for  nothing,  or  accept  their 
offers  of  praying  for  him  at  the  altar  in  part  payment 
of  his  services,  any  more  than  he  wrote  articles  in  the  re- 
ligious newspapers  for  nothing.  The  latter,  it  is  true, 
paid  very  badly;  but,  then,  it  sometimes  happened  that 
his  writings  brought  him  cheques  from  persons  other  than 
the  editors  for  whose  newspapers  they  were  written.  Dur- 
ing the  last  year  or  so  his  articles  on  the  marvellous  answers 
to  prayer,  and  on  the  cures  vouchsafed  at  the  recently 
erected  shrine  of  the  Madonna  delle  Ceneri,  not  far  from 
Naples,  had  received  due  acknowledgment  from  its  grate- 
ful guardians.  The  latter  dreamed  of  a  new  Lourdes 
arising  under  the  shadows  of  Vesuvius;  of  an  improved 
railway  service;  of  hotels,  hospitals,  shops  for  the  sale  of 


DONNA   DIANA  141 

religious  bric-a-brac,  and  all  the  other  incentives  to  com- 
merce similar  to  those  which  had  changed  the  little  Pyren- 
nean  village  into  a  prosperous  watering-place. 

Finding  sleep  to  be  out  of  the  question,  Monsignor 
Tomei  left  his  arm-chair  and  sat  himself  down  at  his  writ- 
ing-table, proposing  to  correct  a  paper  he  had  written  for  a 
Roman  journal  on  (  The  Progress  and  Prospects  of  Cathol- 
icism in  England/  He  knew  absolutely  nothing  about 
England,  and  had  never  visited  that  country;  but  he  had 
acquaintances  among  the  English  Roman  Catholics  in 
Rome,  whose  statements  on  the  subject  he  believed  to  be 
correct.  Besides,  periodical  returns  of  the  number  of  con- 
verts made  in  that  heretical  land  were  to  be  read  in  the 
columns  of  the  organs  of  the  Vatican — returns  forwarded 
from  an  official  Catholic  quarter  in  London,  and,  emanat- 
ing from  such  a  source,  surely  beyond  suspicion  as  to  their 
veracity.  The  subject  was  not  one  that  greatly  interested 
Monsignor  Tomei,  but  it  had  to  be  written -up,  and  he 
wrote  it  up. 

He  was  engaged  in  this  occupation,  and  was  reading, 
with  some  satisfaction,  through  a  paragraph  describing 
the  approaching  formation  of  a  Catholic  Central  Party 
in  the  British  Parliament,  which  was  to  exercise  the  same 
control  as  its  counterpart  in  the  German  Reichstag.  An 
English  constituency  in  the  North  had  returned  a  Roman 
Catholic  candidate,  and  it  was  upon  this  foundation  that 
Monsignor  Tomei's  article  was  built.  .It  was  quite  a  con- 
vincing piece  of  work,  however ;  and  as  he  read  it  he  smiled 
at  his  own  ability  as  a  journalist. 

A  ring  at  the  bell  of  the  entrance-door  disturbed  him, 
and  a  moment  afterwards  he  heard  his  housekeeper  expos- 
tulating with  the  visitor. 

e  Monsignore  was  out/  he  heard  her  declare — e  had  been 
out  since  the  early  morning.  When  would  he  return? 
Mat  how  could  one  know?  Perhaps  not  till  the  Ave 
Maria.9 

Monsignor  Tomei  listened  approvingly.  He  was  very 
seldom  at  home  to  those  who  came  without  having  made 


DONNA   DIANA 

an  appointment,  and  anybody  who  arrived  at  an  hour 
when  Christians  were  taking  a  little  repose  must  want  to 
be  paid,  and  not  to  pay. 

He  rose  from  his  chair  and  opened  the  door  just  suf- 
ficiently to  enable  him  to  peer  out  into  the  little  pas- 
sage. 

6  Of  course,  if  he  'is  out,  he  is  out/  responded  a  man's 
voice  impatiently.  ( But  if  it  is  merely  that  he  is  not  re- 
ceiving, kindly  tell  him  that  Don  Marco  Savelli  wishes  to 
speak  with  him.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  opened  the  door  wider  and  stepped 
into  the  passage. 

'  A  thousand  pardons ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  But  I  was  oc- 
cupied, deeply  occupied,  and  I  had  given  orders  that  no- 
body should  be  admitted.  Of  course,  to  you,  Don  Marco, 
it  is  a  different  thing.  Come  in,  I  beg  of  you;  I  am  en- 
tirely at  your  service.' 

'You  are  alone?'  asked  Marco. 

cYes,  I  am  alone;'  and  Monsignor  Tomei  ushered  his 
visitor  into  his  study.  '  One  moment,'  he  added,  opening 
the  window.  '  The  room  is  full  of  cigar-smoke — my  after- 
breakfast  cigar,  you  know,  that  I  permit  myself  when  I  am 
alone,  except  in  Lent  and  on  fast-days,  when  we  should 
deprive  ourselves  of  such  indulgences.' 

The  fresher  atmosphere  was  welcome,  but  Monsignor 
Tomei  speedily  reclosed  the  window. 

'  Nothing  is  so  dangerous  as  a  current  of  air,'  he  ob- 
served, and  then  he  drew  a  chair  forward  for  his  visitor. 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  two  men  looked  at 
each  other. 

Monsignor  Tomei  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  crossed 
his  feet,  rubbing  his  hands  gently  together,  while  his  small 
black  eyes  travelled  furtively  over  the  other's  face. 

'A  most  unexpected  honour,'  he  observed.  'I  regret 
that  you  should  have  been  kept  waiting.  Had  I  known 
beforehand ' 

Marco  bowed  gracefully. 

'  Do  not  mention  it,'  he  replied.    ( I  know  that  I  come  at 


DONNA   DIANA  143 

a  most  inconvenient  hour,  monsignore;  but  I  wished  to  be 
sure  of  finding  you/ 

'  His  Eminence  ? '  asked  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  You  come 
from  him  I  have  no  doubt,  Don  Marco.  He  is  well,  I 
hope?' 

6  My  uncle  is  very  well/  returned  Marco ;  '  but  I  am  not 
here  on  any  business  of  his.  Indeed,  he  has  no  idea  that 
I  have  come  to  see  you.  And  you  will  oblige  me,  mon- 
signore, by  not  mentioning  my  visit  to  him — not,  at  all 
events,  for  the  present.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  bowed. 

'  Certainly  I  will  not  mention  it/  he  began,  '  if  you  pre- 
fer that  I  should  not  do  so ; '  and  then  he  paused  in- 
quiringly. 

'  You  can  understand  that  I  wish  to  save  him  from  any 
unnecessary  annoyances/  continued  Marco  suavely.  '  My 
uncle  is  not  so  young  as  he  was,  and — well,  as  people  grow 
older  they  sometimes  forget  that  they  were  once  young 
themselves.' 

6  It  is  perhaps  as  well/  observed  Monsignor  Tomei  dryly. 

Marco  Savelli  laughed. 

6  Oh,  for  themselves  no  doubt  it  is  as  well/  he  replied ; 
'  but  for  others  who  are  still  young  it  is  embarrassing,  you 
know,  and  leads  to  misunderstandings.  You  are  in  my 
uncle's  confidence,  monsignore,  so  I  have  come  to  consult 
you  before  approaching  him  with  my  difficulties.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him. 

'  I  need  not  ask  the  nature  of  your  difficulties,  Don 
Marco/  he  said  with  a  smile.  '  It  is  the  privilege  of  youth 
to  be  in  difficulties.  But  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  assist 
you,  if,  as  I  conclude,  they  are  of  a  worldly  nature;  and 
if  they  are  of  another  kind,  I  do  not  think  you  would 
come  to  me  to  seek  spiritual  advice.' 

c  I  do  not  need  any  advice/  answered  Marco  a  little 
sulkily. 

Monsignor  Tomei's  slightly  sarcastic  tone  irritated  him. 
He  felt  that  the  priest  distrusted  him,  and  the  distrust 
was  certainly  mutual.  It  is  unpleasant  to  be  obliged  to 


144  DONNA   DIANA 

confide  in  a  person  in  whom  one  has  no  faith ;  but,  after 
all,  confidences  in  this  world  are  not  always  prompted  by 
trust  in  the  confidant. 

*I  do  not  need  advice/  he  repeated,  'but  money/ 

<  You  mean/  said  Monsignor  Tomei,  '  that  you  need  ad- 
vice as  to  how  to  get  money.' 

'  Well,  yes,  if  you  choose  to  put  it  so/  returned  Marco. 

6  It  should  be  very  simple  for  you/  remarked  Monsignor 
Tomei.  (  You  are  Don  Marco  Savelli.  Why  do  you  not 
marry  one  of  these  rich  Americans  who  come  to  the  Grand 
Hotel  ?  Or  you  could  even  go  to  New  York  or  London, 
and  call  yourself  Prince  or  Marchese,  as  other  young  men 
like  you  have  done.  Even  if  you  could  not  marry  dollars, 
you  might  borrow  some  on  the  strength  of  your  title;  and 
as  for  the  repayment — well,  you  could  do  as  other  young 
men  have  done.  It  is  not  at  all  incumbent  upon  you  to 
recognise  your  creditors  when  they  come  to  Rome — at 
least,  so  I  have  heard.' 

Marco  looked  at  him  without  betraying  any  surprise. 

'  Of  course/  he  replied,  '  with  my  name  I  could  always 
marry  a  rich  wife.  After  all,  one  gives  these  nobodies  a 
very  good  return  for  their  money.  But  at  present  it  would 
not  suit  me  to  marry.' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  manner  became  more  ecclesiastical. 

e  Marriage  is  a  great  safeguard/  he  observed,  helping 
himself  to  a  pinch  of  snuff;  'the  passions  of  youth  are 
very  insidious.  It  is  often  less  expensive,  too,  in  the  long- 
run  than — than  other  entanglements/  he  added,  relapsing 
into  worldliness. 

Marco  looked  down. 

*  It  does  not  always  prevent  other  entanglements/  he 
said. 

'  Ah  no — unhappily  not !  A  deplorable  fact,  my  dear 
Don  Marco,  but  human  nature  is  weak — very  weak.  We 
read  that  the  spirit  is  willing, -but  that  the  flesh  is  weak. 
But  in  reality  it  is  generally  the  other  way !  At  any  rate, 
a  rich  marriage  smooths  many  difficulties — you  will  not 
deny  that.  Why  not  contract  one?' 


DONNA   DIANA  145 

Marco  shrugged  his  shoulders  impatiently. 

'  It  would  not  suit  me/  he  repeated.  6  In  course  of  time, 
perhaps — who  knows?' 

Monsignor  Tomei  tapped  his  snuff-box. 

'  It  is  worth  thinking  about/  he  observed.  '  In  the 
meantime,  Don  Marco,  what  do  you  wish  me  to  do  for 
you?' 

'  I  am  in  want  of  ready  money/  replied  Marco  Savelli 
hurriedly,  '  and  there  is  plenty  of  ready  money  in  the  fam- 
ily, as  you  know,  monsignore.  My  uncle  found  it  for  me 
once.  I  want  him  to  do  so  again.' 

'  More  unlucky  speculations  ? '  asked  Monsignor  Tomei, 
with  a  somewhat  enigmatical  smile. 

Marco  hesitated. 

'  Obligations  of  a  private  nature/  he  replied.  '  My  uncle 
would  not  understand.' 

'  I  think  that  His  Eminence  would  understand  perfectly 
well,  said  Monsignor  Tomei.  e  It  is  possible  that  he  might 
sympathize — for,  as  you  said  just  now,  he  is  no  longer 
young.  But  I  fear  that  the  Cardinal  is  in  no  position  to 
help  you/  he  added.  '  There  have  been  many  calls  upon 
him  lately,  Don  Marco;  and  you  must  remember  that  it  is 
not  so  very  long  ago  since  he  consented  to  take  a  step  which 
was  somewhat  irregular  in  order  to  enable  you  to  meet 
certain  demands  upon  you.' 

'  They  were  debts  of  honour/  said  Marco. 

Monsignor  Tomei  glanced  at  him,  and  his  thick  lips 
curled  a  little. 

6  No  doubt ! '  he  replied  quietly.  '  But  you  could  scarcely 
expect  His  Eminence  to  draw  from  the  same  source  a  sec- 
ond time  in  order  to  defray  these  debts.' 

'  I  do  not  see  why  he  should  object  to  do  so/  returned 
Marco.  '  My  cousin  Diana  will  not  require  the  money  for 
three  years.' 

6  And  what  do  you  require  at  this  moment  ?  '  asked  Mon- 
signor Tomei. 

Marco  paused  for  an  instant  before  replying. 

'  Twenty-five  thousand  francs/  he  said  briefly. 


146  DONNA   DIANA 

Monsignor  Tomei  shook  his  head. 

( It  is  impossible/  he  answered.  '  The  Cardinal  would 
never  consent.  He  has  already  taken  too  much  from  Donna 
Diana  Savelli's  fortune';  and  here  he  checked  himself 
abruptly. 

Marco  looked  at  him  suspiciously. 

f  He  has  taken  a  hundred  thousand  francs  before  on  my 
account/  he  said;  'and  if  he  took  twenty-five  thousand 
more,  that  would  only  make  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
thousand.  It  is  not  much  out  of  the  capital  sum/ 

6  It  is  not  much  to  take,  but  it  is  a  good  deal  to  replace/ 
replied  Monsignor  Tomei.  ' Besides/  he  added,  'your 
uncle  very  naturally  has  scruples  of  conscience — the  money 
is  in  trust  for  Donna  Diana.  It  is  very  true  that  she  is 
going  to  be  a  nun,  but  she  will  need  her  fortune  all  the 
same.  Her  convent  will  require  it.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  spoke  with  some  eagerness,  and  Marco 
Savelli  fixed  a  scrutinizing  gaze  upon  him.  The  suspi- 
cion that  Diana's  fortune  had  been  tampered  with  by  his 
uncle  for  other  purposes  than  to  provide  him  with  money 
deepened  in  his  mind.  Monsignor  Tomei's  embarrassment, 
slight  as  it  was,  and  hidden  beneath  a  ready  flow  of  lan- 
guage, had  not  escaped  him.  None  knew  better  than  he 
how  lavishly  words  are  employed  in  Kome  to  conceal 
facts. 

'  I  quite  understand  my  uncle's  feelings/  he  observed 
quietly.  c  Of  course,  had  any  part  of  Donna  Diana's  for- 
tune been  used  for  other  than  purely  family  motives,  it 
would  be  very  reprehensible.  That,  however,  is  not  to  be 
thought  of  for  a  moment — the  very  idea  of  it  is  an  injus- 
tice to  the  Cardinal.  You  say  that  Diana's  convent  will 
require  her  money,  monsignor.' 

'  Certainly/  replied  the  latter.  *  It  is  customary  for  a 
nun  to  bring  a  dot  with  her.  And  in  the  case  of  a  lady  of 
Donna  Diana  Savelli's  name  and  rank,  known  to  possess 
money  of  her  own,  no  doubt  a  larger  sum  would  be  expected 
than  from  more  ordinary  individuals.  His  Eminence,  of 
course,  is  well  aware  of  this.' 


DONNA   DIANA  147 

'  It  is  also  customary  for  a  young  girl  to  bring  a  dot  to 
her  husband/  said  Marco  dryly. 

Monsignor  Tomei  gave  a  very  visible  start.  Then  he 
recovered  himself  and  laughed  gently. 

6  Just  so,  my  dear  Don  Marco — just  so ! '  he  replied. 
'  That,  if  you  remember,  is  exactly  what  I  ventured  to  sug- 
gest to  you  a  few  minutes  ago.  After  all,  it  is  the  same 
thing,  only  in  the  case  of  the  nun  the  bridegroom  is  the 
Church/  And  he  laughed  again. 

'  Precisely/  replied  Marco  Savelli ; c  but  a  spiritual  bride- 
groom is  sometimes  more  accommodating  than  a  bride- 
groom of  flesh  and  blood/ 

'No  doubt/  answered  Monsignor  Tomei;  'but  the  latter 
in  the  present  instance  need  not  enter  into  our  calcula- 
tions/ 

'  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,  monsignore/  said  Marco 
meaningly. 

Monsignor  Tomei  gave  a  little  exclamation  of  surprise. 

'But,  Don  Marco '  he  began. 

Marco  Savelli  sprang  up  from  his  chair  impetuously. 

c  Yes/  he  continued,  f  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  we  shall 
not  have  to  deal  with  another  aspirant  to  my  cousin  Diana's 
fortune.  In  that  case  the  whole  of  her  capital  would  have 
to  be  forthcoming.  You  are  aware  that  it  is  in  trust  until 
she  is  twenty-one  only  in  the  event  of  her  being  unmar- 
ried. Should  she  marry,  she  could  demand  its  release, 
provided  she  married  with  the  consent  of  her  family/ 

i  Diavolo ! 9  exclaimed  Monsignor  Tomei.  ( No,  Don 
Marco,  I  was  not  aware  of  that.  His  Eminence  has  con- 
sulted me  about  Donna  Diana  Savelli's  affairs,  but  he 
omitted  to  mention  what  you  tell  me/ 

e  He  thought  it  of  no  importance,  I  conclude/  said 
Marco  carelessly.  { Nevertheless,  the  fact  is  so ;  and,  mon- 
signore, the  Church  is  not  the  only  suitor  in  the  field. 
You  will  understand,  therefore,  that  it  may  become  of  im- 
portance at  any  moment/ 

e  Donna  Diana  has  a  lover,  then  ? '  asked  Monsignor 
Tomei. 


148  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Oh  yes,  she  has  a  lover/  answered  Marco  bitterly — '  a 
foreigner,  who  has  fallen  in  love  with  her  face,  or  with 
her  money — what  do  I  know?  She  thinks  nothing  about 
him,  and  my  aunt  San  Kocco  has  been  warned,  so  they 
have  had  no  opportunity  of  meeting  lately.  But  love  is 
infectious,  as  well  as  contagious,  and  if  she  gets  ideas  into 
her  head ' 

'  But  she  must  not  get  ideas  into  her  head/  interrupted 
Monsignor  Tomei. 

'  No/  agreed  Marco.  c  It  would  be  a  very  dreadful  thing 
— a  sacrilege — as  I  have  explained  to  my  uncle  and  to  my 
aunt  San  Kocco.  They  quite  agree.  So  decided  a  voca- 
tion as  that  of  Diana  should  be  guarded  as  a  sacred  thing. 
Do  you  not  agree  with  me  also,  monsignore?' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  eyes  contracted  until  the  two  pupils 
looked  like  two  points  of  black  steel. 

'  The  thought  is  horrible ! '  he  said.  '  The  girl — pardon 
me  if  I  speak  so  unceremoniously  of  your  cousin,  Donna 
Diana — is  already  as  it  were  vowed  to  the  service  of  Al- 
mighty God.  Ah  no;  certainly  His  Eminence  will  not 
see  her  ravished  from  the  arms  of  her  lawful  spouse !  You 
have  spoken  to  him,  you  say?' 

'Yes/  replied  Marco;  'and  not  I  only,  but  also  Frau 
von  Eaben,  whom  you  know.  But  there  are  dangerous 
influences  at  work,  monsignore.  This  foreigner  is  an  Eng- 
lishman— Vane — of  whom  you  have  heard,  of  course.' 

'Ah,  Don  Michelangelo's  friend!' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  countenance  assumed  an  expression 
far  from  pleasing.  He  hated  Lino  Savelli  as  only  some 
priests  and  the  professionally  pious  can  hate  those  who 
spoil  the  market  by  thinking  for  themselves  in  matters  of 
faith. 

Marco  Savelli  looked  at  him  with  a  slight  smile,  scarcely 
less  disagreeable  than  the  scowl  which  overspread  the 
coarser  features  o'f  the  other. 

'You  can  hardly  expect  my  brother  Lino  to  be  on  the 
side  of  religion/  he  said.  '  The  business  is  of  his  making. 
He  introduced  this  foreigner  into  Palazzo  San  Eocco,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  149 

my  aunt  was  not  suspicious  at  first,  because  Vane  is  a 
Catholic,  although  he  is  an  Englishman.  It  was  supposed 
that  he  would  not  think  of  Diana  when  he  knew  she  was 
to  be  a  nun.  But  how  can  anyone  know  what  an  English- 
man will  do?  The  two  have  been  acting  in  collusion,  of 
course,  and  had  it  not  been  for  Frau  von  Kaben's  watch- 
fulness more  harm  might  have  been  done/ 

'They  are  great  friends,  I  have  heard/  observed  Mon- 
signor  Tomei  meditatively. 

Marco  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  Yes/  he  replied  contemptuously ;  ( it  is  very  romantic. 
My  brother  gives  out  that  this  Englishman  saved  his  life. 
I  do  not  believe  in  these  great  friendships.  However,  it 
is  no  affair  of  mine.  I  dare  say  that  they  are  tired  of  it, 
and  probably  the  Englishman  thinks  he  might  as  well 
marry  and  get  Diana's  dot' 

Monsignor  Tomei  rubbed  his  hands  together  with  a  little 
more  alacrity. 

c  It  is  very  curious/  he  remarked,  glancing  at  Marco 
from  under  his  eyelids — '  very  curious  indeed ! ' 

c  Naturally/  pursued  Marco,  '  Lino  would  feel  bound 
to  help  him  to  do  so/ 

Monsignor  Tornei  nodded. 

'  Naturally/  he  assented.  Then  he  added  somewhat  ab- 
ruptly: 'But  I  do  not  see  what  all  this  has  to  do  with 
what  I  understand  to  be  the  object  of  your  visit,  Don 
Marco.  You  want  His  Eminence  to  advance  you  a  further 
sum  of  money,  and  you  are  aware  that  in  order  to  do  so  he 
would  be  obliged  again  to  draw  upon  Donna  Diana's  for- 
tune. If,  as  you  say,  the  Cardinal  has  been  warned  that 
his  ward  has  a  suitor,  he  will  be  all  the  more  reluctant 
further  to  diminish  capital  that  he  might  be  required  to 
produce  at  any  moment/ 

Marco  Savelli  muttered  an  oath  under  his  breath. 

cHe  must  not  be  required  to  produce  it  to  any  suitor! ' 
he  exclaimed  angrily.  e  There  is  no  real  likelihood  of  such 
a  thing.  If  I  thought  that  Diana  were  in  love  with  this 
canaglia  of  a  foreigner,  I  would  soon  find  means  to  pre- 


150  DONNA   DIANA 

vent  him  from  troubling  her  peace  of  mind  any  more. 
No,  no,  monsignore;  things  are  not  gone  so  far  as  that 
yet!  Diana  is  not  in  love  with  him,  and  is  still  in  love 
with  the  idea  of  entering  religion.  If  I  believed  she  was 

thinking  about  him '  and  he  paused  abruptly,  while 

an  evil  look  of  hatred  and  anger  crossed  his  countenance. 

Monsignor  Tomei  watched  him  quietly. 

'  Of  course/  he  said  calmly,  '  you  would  be  perfectly 
right  to  prevent  such  a  scandal ;  '  it  would  be  an  affair  of 
honour  to  do  so.' 

'  I  do  not  want  any  publicity/  muttered  Marco.  '  There 
are  other  ways ' 

'Yes,  certainly  there  are  other  ways/  returned  Mon- 
signor Tomei. 

6  But  if  Diana  adheres  to  her  determination  there  is  no 
fear  of  the  emergency  arising/  said  Marco  slowly.  '  It 
is  our  duty  to  guard  her  from  anything  that  might  make 
her  waver — from  anything  that  might  interfere  with  the 
holy  state  of  her  mind.  Do  you  not  agree  with  me?' 

*  Undoubtedly,  Don  Marco/ 

'I  have  thought  the  whole  matter  over  very  carefully/ 
Marco  continued,  '  and  it  seems  to  me  that  Diana's  money 
is  likely  to  prove  a  great  temptation  to — well,  to  men  like 
this  Vane,  for  instance.  Probably,  if  he  were  to  hear  that 
she  had  no  fortune  to  bring  to  a  husband,  he  would  soon 
turn  his  attention  elsewhere/ 

'But  I  do  not  understand/  said  Monsignor  Tomei. 
'Donna  Diana  cannot  make  away  with  her  own  for- 
tune  '  He  was  about  to  add  'whatever  others  may 

do  for  her/  but  checked  himself  in  time. 

Marco  Savelli  glanced  at  him. 

'Nevertheless/  he  replied,  'that  is  exactly  what  she 
can  do ! 9 

Monsignor  Tomei  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  gazed 
at  him  inquiringly. 

'  She  is  giving  herself  to  religion/  proceeded  Marco, 
'  so  why  should  she  not  make  arrangements  to  devote  her 
fortune  to  the  convent  she  means  to  enter?  Of  course, 


DONNA   DIANA  151 

the  money  could  not  be  paid  over  until  she  was  of  age ;  but 
she  would  regard  an  anticipatory  deed  of  gift  as  binding 
upon  her,  though,  as  signed  by  a  minor,  it  would  have  no. 
legal  value.  The  convent,  no  doubt,  would  feel  justified 
in  enlarging  its  property,  or  in  incurring  greater  outlay, 
should  the  authorities  know  that  in  a  few  years  the  extra 
capital  would  fall  in.' 

Monsignor  Tomer's  eyes  gleamed,  and  his  expression  be- 
came keen  and  alert  as  he  listened. 

'But,'  he  interposed,  'I  do  not  see  how  such  a  scheme 
would  help  you.  And  you  must  recollect  that  Donna 
Diana  has  still  to  pass  through  her  novitiate.  She  might 
change  her  mind  during  its  course,  and  refuse  to  take  the 
final  vows.  If  she  did  take  them,  and  insisted  upon  ful- 
filling her  promise  to  endow  the  convent  with  a  part, 
or  with  the  whole,  of  her  fortune,  you  would  merely  be 
placing  some  old  Mother  Superior  in  the  place  of  a  hus- 
band. I  do  not  see  your  point,  Don  Marco.' 

Marco  hesitated  for  a  moment  or  two. 

6 1  thought,'  he  said  at  length,  '  that,  in  the  event  of  my 
cousin  showing  a  disposition  to  benefit  her  community, 
the  latter  would  be  likely  to  be  more  accommodating  should 
there  be  some  little  delay  in  paying  over  the  money,  or 
some  deficit  in  the  capital  when  paid,  than  a  husband 
would  be  in  the  case  of  a  dot' 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  his  visitor  almost  ad- 
miringly. 

'  Ah,'  he  exclaimed,  ( I  begin  to  see  your  meaning !  It 
is  certainly  an  idea.  Between  ourselves,  Don  Marco,  I 
may  tell  you  that  the  longer  your  cousin  Donna  Diana's 
capital  can  remain  in  the  hands  of  His  Eminence,  the 
better;  and  I  gather  that  delay  in  finally  paying  it  over 
is  the  chief  object  you  have  in  view.  If  she  should  really 
form  the  laudable  desire  to  endow  the  community  she  en- 
ters, no  doubt  some  understanding  could  be  arrived  at 
with  the  representatives  of  that  community  which  would 
be  beneficial  to  all  parties/ 

'And  in  that  case,'  said  Marco,  cmy  uncle  would  no 


152  DONNA   DIANA 

doubt  be  more  willing  to  repeat  what  he  did  for  me  on  a 

former  occasion/ 

.  Monsignor  Tomei  shook  his  head. 

'  Ah/  he  replied,  '  I  fear  that  it  would  be  very  difficult 
to  persuade  His  Eminence  as  to  the  advisability  of  such  a 
course.  Besides,  if  you  will  forgive  me  for  asking  the 
question,  what  reasons  would  you  give  for  needing  the 
money?  You  could  scarcely  plead  financial  losses  a  sec- 
ond time.  The  Cardinal  would  begin  to  make  inquiries, 

and Well,  Rome  is  a  small  place,  Don  Marco,  and 

there  are  always  people  ready  to  talk.' 

(  One  has  obligations '  began  Marco. 

'  Of  course — of  course !  *  interrupted  Monsignor  Tomei, 
with  a  wave  of  his  hand.  '  That  is  the  unfortunate  part 
of  being  born — of  being  a  man,  in  short — a  layman,  I 
mean.  However,  we  need  not  discuss  the  subject.  I  would 
readily  help  you  if  I  could;  but  what  can  I  do?5 

f  You  said  just  now  that  the  longer  Donna  Diana's  cap- 
ital can  remain  in  my  uncle's  hands,  the  better,'  replied 
Marco.  '  Can  you  not  tell  him  so,  monsignore  ? ' 

'  Oh/  said  Monsignor  Tomei,  '  I  think  His  Eminence 
fully  realizes  that  fact.' 

Marco  gave  him  a  rapid  glance. 

'If  that  is  the  case/  he  observed,  ' cannot  you  impress 
upon  him  that  the  best  way  to  insure  delay  in  accounting 
for  it  is  to  encourage  my  cousin  to  adopt  the  course  I  have 
described  ?  She  will  listen  to  him,  and  my  aunt,  Princess 
San  Rocco,  will  listen  also.  Perhaps,  monsignore,  you 
may  even  know  of  some  religious  community  to  which 
Diana's  money,  or  such  part  of  it  as  she  desired  to  bestow, 
might  be  very  useful  in  the  future.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  did  not  reply  immediately.  He  re- 
sorted again  to  his  snuff-box,  and  took  one  or  two  liberal 
pinches,  after  which  he  blew  his  nose  loudly. 

'  His  Eminence  told  me  some  time  ago  that  he  had  ar- 
ranged for  Donna  Diana  Savelli  to  pass  her  novitiate  in  a 
convent  out  of  Rome/  he  remarked  presently ;  e  but  he  did 
not  tell  me  where,  or  even  tell  me  the  name  of  the  Order.' 


DONNA   DIANA  153 

6 1  believe/  said  Marco,  ( that  the  convent  is  at  Florence 
— the '  Monsignor  Tomei  looked  up  quickly. 

'  Ah  yes/  he  observed,  and  then  he  added,  '  Of  course, 
in  my  business  capacity  I  have  the  management  of  the 
financial  affairs  of  more  than  one  conventual  establish- 
ment— in  my  business  capacity,  my  dear  Don  Marco.  Che . 
vuole  ?  a  man  must  live,  and  it  is  not  every  priest  who  can 
live  by  the  altar,  as  was  intended  by  Domeneddio!' 

Marco  Savelli  looked  at  him  and  smiled  quietly. 

( Naturally/  he  said,  i  it  is  in  your  business  capacity  that 
I  am  seeking  your  co-operation,  monsignore.' 

The  words  were  very  simple,  but  Monsignor  Tomei  un- 
derstood them  in  the  sense  they  were  intended. to  convey. 

The  two  men  gazed  at  each  other  steadily  for  an  instant, 
and  it  was  characteristic  of  the  Roman  love  of  intrigue 
that  mutual  contempt  was  more  than  tempered  by  a  cer- 
tain mutual  admiration  of  the  means  employed  to  arrive 
at  a  good  understanding. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  opening  year,  of  the  new  century  had  not  been  en- 
tirely propitious  to  Cardinal  Savelli.  In  common  with 
the  majority  of  the  Cardinals  of  the  Curia,  he  had  his 
enemies.  The  Papal  Court,  its  spiritual  pretensions  not- 
withstanding, is  no  freer  from  petty  jealousies  and  back- 
stair  intrigues  than  the  Court  of  any  ruler  in  no  wise 
claiming  Divine  vicegerence.  In  the  silent  halls  of  the 
vast  palace  that  seems  to  stand  in  dignified  seclusion — a 
perpetual  protest  against  the  new  Rome  and  all  that  the 
latter  represents — the  threads  of  the  world's  webs  are  be- 
ing gathered  up  as  carefully  and  as  indefatigably  as  once 
they  were  in  that  other  pontifical  and  imperial  palace  on 
the  Palatine  Hill. 

Of  the  varied  objects  that  arrest  the  attention  of  the 
thoughtful  walker  through  the  streets  of  Rome,  surely 
none  can  do  so  more  forcibly  than  the  Vatican.  Believer 
or  unbeliever,  saint  or  cynic,  who  can  contemplate  it  un- 
moved ?  unless,  indeed,  he  belong  to  that  vast  body  which 
chiefly  associates  it  with  Baedeker,  and  wanders  through 
its  galleries,  gazing  on  the  beautiful,  lifeless  things  of 
marble-  and  paint,  without  bestowing  a  thought  on  the 
great  living  machine  silently  working  around  him;  on  the 
sublime  strength  and  the  pitiful  weakness  of  humanity 
from  which  that  machine  draws  its  universal  power. 

Within  the  halls  of  the  Vatican  are  all  the  pomp  and 
circumstance  of  a  Court.  Prelates  and  Cardinals,  richly 
robed,  move  through  the  ante-chambers,  and  Ambassadors 
from  the  monarchs  of  the  world  pass  to  audience.  The 
clash  of  swords  borne  by  the  soldiers  on  guard  resounds 
in  the  palace  of  the  representative  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
The  cynic  smiles  and  the  unbeliever  scoffs.  The  believer 

154 


DONNA   DIANA  155 

in  the  teaching  of  Christ,  even  if  he  be  a  Catholic — nay, 
perhaps  because  he  is  a  Catholic — goes  away  saddened 
with  the  words  'My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world '  ring- 
ing in  his  ears.  Where  are  the  poor  and  the  sick,  the  halt, 
the  maimed,  and  the  blind? 

These  do  not  go  to  Court,  but  the  wise  men  who  bring 
presents — realizable  commodities,  such  as  gold,  frankin- 
cense, and  myrrh. 

But  the  true  power  of  the  Vatican — the  spiritual  power 
— is  not  here.  You  may  see  its  reflection  in  the  faces  of 
some  among  those  who  pass  on  their  way  to  the  presence- 
chamber.  They  bring  no  gifts,  and  perchance  they  have 
waited  years  for  the  crowning  moment  of  their  lives — the 
moment  when  they  shall  kneel  before  the  Vicar  of  Christ 
and  receive  his  benediction.  On  the  countenances  of  the 
courtiers  you  may  read  the  love  of  the  Church;  but  on 
the  faces  of  these,  the  humble  labourers  in  God's  vineyard, 
is  written  a  very  different  love — the  love  of  God.  They 
are  toil-stained,  these  workers,  and  seem  to  bear  with  them 
the  atmosphere  of  the  surroundings  in  which  they  labour. 
You  may  look  into  eyes  that  have  grown  weary  with  gazing 
on  suffering,  and  on  sin  that  has  produced  it.  You  may 
study  features  of  men  and  women,  both  young  and  old, 
and  read  what  has  been  written  by  care,  responsibility, 
and  sympathy. 

This  Bishop  of  a  far-away  diocese,  in  partibus  infide- 
lium,  with  pinched,  shrivelled  face,  and  hands  shaking 
from  fever,  has  faced  more  perils  than  St.  Paul. 

That  Belgian  priest,  he  has  worked  unnoticed  and  with- 
out thought  of  reward  among  the  artisans  of  Liege  or 
Charleroi ;  that  French  nun,  she  has  taken  her  life  in  her 
hand  in  the  Congo  or  in  Tonquin,  in  order  to  give  a  few 
hours'  solace  to  the  wounded  and  the  sick;  and  there  are 
others  more  obscure  than  they,  wrestling  with  the  evil  of 
drink  in  the  slums  of  some  Northern  city,  or  wearing  out 
their  lives  in  combating  the  monotonous  immorality  of 
some  country  village. 

And  so  they  pass  to  the  presence-room,  between  the 


156  DONNA   DIANA 

purple-robed  monsignori  and  the  prelates  of  the  pontifical 
household,  humble  witnesses  to  the  power  of  that  other 
kingdom,  the  Sovereign  of  which  holds  His  Court  in  their 
own  hearts. 

But  the  great  machine  around  them  grinds  on,  crush- 
ing, absorbing,  assimilating.  Between  the  labourer  and 
his  Employer  there  stands  the  middleman — the  Church 
political,  the  Church  financial — levying  toll  on  his  labours, 
utilizing  them  to  advance  the  triumph  of  a  system  born 
less  of  Christ  than  of  Caesar,  even  exploiting  faith,  hope, 
and  charity  in  order  to  secure  further  dominion  over  the 
destinies  of  man. 

Cardinal  Savelli  had  passed  the  greater  part  of  his  life 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Vatican.  The  second  of  four 
brothers,  and  member  of  an  old  Roman  house,  he  had 
become  a  priest  more  in  order  to  carry  on  the  traditions 
of  the  family  than  from  any  very  decided  vocation.  The 
Savelli,  indeed,  had  the  reputation  of  being  somewhat 
wild,  and  Don  Luigi  in  his  youth  had  lived  up  to  that 
reputation. 

Even  as  a  monsignore  and  a  handsome  man  of  forty, 
he  had  caused  tongues  in  Rome  to  wag,  and  on  one  occa- 
sion it  had  been  deemed  advisable  to  entrust  him  with  an 
Apostolic  mission,  entailing  his  absence  from  the  Holy 
City  during  more  than  a  year. 

There  were  also  stories  after  his  elevation  to  the  purple ; 
but,  then,  in  Rome  there  are  always  stories,  and  even  dear 
friends  not  infrequently  attribute  to  each  other  all  the 
crimes  mentioned  in  the  Decalogue,  and  some  that  are 
tactfully  omitted  therefrom. 

Cardinal  Luigi's  eldest  brother,  Prince  Savelli,  had  long 
ago  dissipated  his  lands  and  most  of  his  money.  For  years 
he  had  inhabited  a  small  apartment  in  Paris — the  casket 
containing  the  ashes  of  certain  pleasures,  overindulgence 
in  which  had  wrecked  both  his  constitution  and  his 
fortune. 

A  son  of  the  house  of  the  Savelli  was  tolerably  sure  of 
making  his  way  in  the  Church,  and  promotion  had  come 


DONNA   DIANA  157 

easily  and  quickly  to  Don  Luigi.  The  Savelli,  indeed,  had 
remained  faithful  in  their  political  adherence  to  the  Holy 
See,  and  had  never  intermarried  save  with  the  '  blackest ' 
Italian  families.  As  he  advanced  in  years,  Monsignor 
Savelli  became  an  ideal  courtier  as  well  as  ecclesiastic, 
and  it  was  only  after  his  elevation  to  the  cardinalate 
that  he  had  begun  to  make  enemies  among  his  fellow- 
Eminences  and  the  groups  devoted  to  their  respective 
interests. 

Perhaps  the  fact  that  he  happened  to  be  a  gentleman 
accounted  for  some  of  the  jealousy  with  which  Cardinal 
Savelli  was  regarded  in  certain  ecclesiastical  quarters. 
However  this  might  be,  the  influence  he  had  at  one  time 
undoubtedly  possessed  had  in  some  mysterious  manner 
seemed  to  slip  away  from  him  without  any  apparent  cause. 
At  one  moment,  if  not  actually  among  the  papabili.,  as 
those  Cardinals  supposed  to  have  some  probability  of  elec- 
tion to  the  pontifical  office  are  familiarly  termed,  his 
name  was  at  least  mentioned  as  a  possible  successor  to  the 
venerable  occupant  of  St.  Peter's  chair. 

Very  soon,  however,  people  who  professed  to  be  able  to 
gauge  the  official  atmosphere  of  the  Vatican  began  to 
shake  their  heads  when  Cardinal  Savelli's  name  was  men- 
tioned in  any  such  connection.  Rumour  had  it,  as  one 
of  the  reasons  for  his  fall  from  power,  that  he  had  been 
too  open  in  his  disapproval  of  the  policy  adapted  by  the 
Vatican  towards  the  French  Republic.  It  is  possible  that 
he  had  been  so,  for,  like  many  Romans,  he  had  little  love 
for  the  French,  and  certainly  none  for  a  Republican  Gov- 
ernment. 

There  was,  however,  another  report  current  among  those 
claiming  to  be  well  informed  on  such  matters.  It  was  al- 
leged that  Cardinal  Savelli  had  been,  if  not  culpable  of, 
at  least  indirectly  responsible  for,  certain  financial  errors 
entailing  considerable  loss  to  the  Papal  exchequer.  In- 
stances were  not  wanting  of  similar  errors  on  the  part  of 
others  having  been  visited  by  prompt  disgrace.  So  promi- 
nent a  personage  as  Cardinal  Savelli  could  not,  of  course, 


158  DONNA   DIANA 

be  openly  censured,  but  it  was  averred  that  the  necessary 
scapegoat  had  been  found  in  the  person  of  an  ecclesiastic 
of  lower  rank,  who  had  been  promptly  relegated  to  take 
charge  of  the  souls  in  a  distant  town  in  the  Abruzzi,  a 
town  he  would  not  be  likely  to  leave  until,  worn  out  by 
disappointment  and  heart-broken  by  uncongenial  sur- 
roundings, he  should  be  carried  to  the  cemetery  beyond  its 
walls. 

The  bestowal  elsewhere  of  the  office  which  Cardinal 
Savelli  had  hoped  to  obtain  had  been  the  first  unmistak- 
able mark  afforded  him  of  the  change  in  his  position. 
Nevertheless,  he  had  been  quick  to  read  in  a  hundred  little 
details,  trifling  as  yet,  but  significant  enough  to  one  versed 
in  the  ways  of  a  Court,  evidences  of  his  impending  loss  of 
favour. 

Perhaps  Cardinal  Savelli  would  have  felt  his  altered 
position  less  keenly  had  the  latter  not  called  forth  other 
troubles.  His  adversaries  in  the  ecclesiastical  world,  not 
content  with  intriguing  against  him  within  the  Vatican, 
had  seized  the  opportunity  to  hint  that  his  financial  con- 
ditions were  not  so  prosperous  as  had  hitherto  been  be- 
lieved. It  was  never  suggested  that  Cardinal  Savelli  had 
derived  any  personal  advantage  from  the  ill-considered 
speculations  on  the  part  of  the  Vatican  for  which  he  had 
been  held  responsible.  People  shook  their  heads,  and  said 
that  he  evidently  had  not  so  good  a  head  for  money  as 
had  been  generally  supposed;  and  it  was  only  natural, 
this  fact  once  admitted,  that  doubt  should  be  cast  upon  the 
state  of  his  own  pecuniary  affairs. 

It  is  marvellous  how  rapidly  surmises  crystallize  into 
assertions.  The  birds  of  the  air  soon  carried  the  matter 
across  the  Tiber  and  into  the  business  circles  of  the  city. 
Tradesmen  began  to  send  their  bills  in  to  the  Cardinal's 
secretary;  not,  as  formerly,  by  post  at  the  usual  seasons, 
but  by  hand,  with  a  receipt  stamp  already  affixed.  Of 
greater  inconvenience  was  the  pressure  for  the  repayment 
of  the  principal  of  certain  loans,  a  renewal  of  which, 
hitherto  granted  without  difficulty,  was  now  declared  to 


DONNA   DIANA  159 

be  impossible.  It  was  in  vain  that  Cardinal  Savelli  called 
Monsignor  Tomei  to  his  assistance.  The  latter  had  hitherto 
treated  his  patron's  embarrassments  as  passing  matters  of 
no  great  gravity.  He  had  always  succeeded  by  one  means 
or  another  in  enabling  the  Cardinal  to  meet  the  calls  made 
upon  him.  It  is  true  that  old  obligations  were  discharged 
by  incurring  new  ones,  but  Cardinal  Savelli,  being  of  a 
Roman  princely  family,  was  not  greatly  disturbed  by  such 
petty  detail  as  this.  Of  late,  however,  Monsignor  Tomei 
had  assumed  a  more  apprehensive  attitude. 

It  had  been  somewhat  of  a  shock  to  the  Cardinal  when 
Monsignor  Tomei  had  frankly  informed  him  that  he  had, 
so  to  speak,  touched  the  extreme  limit  of  his  credit,  and 
that  he,  Monsignor  Tomei,  could  do  no  more  in  the  way 
of  negotiating  further  loans  on  his  behalf.  The  more 
immediate  result  of  this  piece  of  intelligence  was  that 
Cardinal  Savelli  reduced  the  number  of  his  men-servants 
by  one;  changed  his  cook,  to  whom  he  had  given  a  hun- 
dred lire  a  month,  and  engaged  another  at  a  salary  of  sev- 
enty lire;  and  commissioned  Monsignor  Tomei  to  sell  for 
him  one  of  his  jewelled  episcopal  rings. 

After  making  these  domestic  economies  he  had  felt 
easier  in  his  mind. 

'  I  suppose  I  ought  to  sell  my  horses/  he  observed  plain- 
tively to  Monsignor  Tomei  when  they  were  discussing  the 
situation  together,  'and  hire  a  pair  of  hearse-horses  by 
the  month.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  could  scarcely  have  given  a  more  con- 
vincing sign  that  he  realized  the  gravity  of  his  financial 
position  than  by  making  a  similar  suggestion.  In  other 
capitals  the  suppression  of  carriages  and  horses  is  the 
first  step  on  the  road  to  retrenchment,  but  in  Eome  it  is 
one  of  the  very  last.  There  are  families  who  will  live  in 
absolute  discomfort,  and  yet  maintain  a  carriage  and  pair 
with  which  to  impress  the  loungers  in  the  Corso. 

*  Of  course,'  replied  Monsignor  Tomei  to  this  remark. 
'Your  Eminence  cannot  walk  within  the  city,  and  as  you 
certainly  cannot  take  a  cab  or  the  tram  to  one  of  the 


160  DONNA   DIANA 

gates,  a  carriage  is  a  necessity.  But  hiring  is  cheaper. 
You  could  then  put  down  your  stables.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed  impatiently. 

'  No  doubt/  he  replied,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand.  '  We 
will  consider  it,  monsignore — we  will  consider  it.  One  is 
forced  to  keep  up  appearances,  you  know/ 

'Your  Eminence  will  do  well  to  consider  any  step  that 
will  curtail  current  expenses/  observed  Monsignor  Tomei 
gloomily.  '  It  is  certainly  very  unfortunate/  he  added, 
and  then  he  checked  himself  and  glanced  at  Cardinal 
Savelli  apologetically. 

'What  is  very  unfortunate?'  asked  the  Cardinal. 

Monsignor  Tomei  hesitated. 

'  I  was  about  to  say/  he  replied,  '  that  it  is  certainly 
annoying  to  think  of  the  money  which  is  in  your  Em- 
inence's hands — money  which  might  be  of  so  much  use 
at  the  present  moment  if  it  could  be  touched.' 

'  It  is  useless  to  think  of  that/  said  Cardinal  Savelli. 
*  One  of  the  things  which  troubles  me  the  most  is  finding 
myself  unable  as  yet  to  replace  what  has  been  already 
taken  from  that  money/  he  added.  'But  by  strict 
economy  during  the  next  three  years  much  may  be 
done.' 

'  Unless  Donna  Diana  Savelli  should  require  her  fortune 
before  the  expiration  of  that  time/  observed  Monsignor 
Tomei. 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  quickly. 

'  She  is  not  entitled  to  it  before  she  is  of  age/  he  re- 
turned. 

'But  if  she  were  to  marry?' 

'  To  marry ! '  re-echoed  the  Cardinal.  '  Why  should  she 
marry?  The  idea  is  preposterous!  Besides,  she  cannot 
do  so  without  my  consent  as  her  guardian.' 

'But  somebody  might  want  to  marry  her/  suggested 
Monsignor  Tomei.  '  She  is  known  to  have  money,  and 
your  Eminence  is  aware  that  young  people  are  apt  to  fall 
in  love.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  frowned. 


DONNA   DIANA  161 

c  Love  is  for  those  who  live  in  the  world/  he  replied. 
'  My  niece,  monsignore,  will  not  be  of  the  world.  In  a 
few  weeks'  time  she  will  commence  her  novitiate.  I  have 
already  arranged  for  her  reception  into  a  convent  at  Flor- 
ence. Between  ourselves,  I  shall  be  relieved  when  she  is 
there.  It  is  a  responsibility  for  my  sister  to  have  her  at 
the  Palazzo  San  Kocco,  and  I  fear  some  silly  things  have 
already  been  said  in  her  presence  by  her  cousins.  They 
have  got  an  idea  into  their  heads  that  a  young  English- 
man who  has  visited  there  admires  her.' 

e  Precisely/  observed  Monsignor  Tomei. 

The  Cardinal  glanced  at  him. 

*  You  have  heard  of  it  ? '  he  asked  with  some  surprise. 

*  I  have  certainly  heard  it  remarked  that  a  friend  of 
Don  Michelangelo  appeared  to  admire  her/  answered  Mon- 
signor Tomei. 

'  Ah,  I  wonder  whom  you  heard  this  from  ? '  asked  Car- 
dinal Savelli  curiously.  '  I  did  not  suppose  that  it  had 
been  talked  about  out  of  the  family/  he  added. 

'  I  do  not  remember  who  my  informant  was/  said  Mon- 
signor Tomei  carelessly;  'but  those  things  are  always 
talked  about.  Some  servant  has  gossiped,  probably,  or 
perhaps  the  young  man  himself.  Indeed,  now  I  come  to 
think  of  it,  I  believe  Don  Michelangelo  has  spoken  openly 
about  it/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  tapped  his  foot  impatiently  on  the 
ground. 

'  A  ridiculous  idea ! '  he  exclaimed ;  '  but,  luckily,  as 
I  was  saying,  in  a  few  weeks  my  niece  will  be  out  of 
harm's  way/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  was  silent,  but  he  gave  his  shoulders 
a  barely  perceptible  shrug. 

'You  surely  do  not  suppose  that  there  is  anything  in 
it?'  demanded  Cardinal  Savelli  quickly. 

6  There  is  generally  something  in  a  young  man ! '  Mon- 
signor Tomei  observed,  with  an  expressive  gesture. 

The  Cardinal  smiled  faintly. 

*  Si  capisce ! '  he  replied.     '  But  they  have  had  little  or 


162  DONNA   DIANA 

no  opportunity  of  seeing  each  other — and  my  niece  is  a 
mere  child  still.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  hesitated  a  little  as  he  uttered  these 
words.  He  suddenly  recollected  his  last  interview  with 
Diana,  and  how  he  had  then  realized  that  she  was  a 
child  no  longer,  but  a  girl  fast  developing  into  woman- 
hood. 

( A  very  little  is  needed  to  arouse  a  young  girl's  sus- 
ceptibilities/ said  Monsignor  Tomei,  '  and  Donna  Diana 
Savelli  is,  I  am  told,  beautiful  enough  to  make  any  man 
fall  in  love  with  her  at  first  sight — at  least,  any  one  of 
our  young  men.  But  in  this  case  we  are  dealing  with  an 
Englishman.  Is  it  not. so,  Eminence?' 

'  Yes/  replied  the  Cardinal,  '  and  that  makes  the  affair 
still  more  impossible.  To  be  sure,  he  is  not  a  Protestant; 
but  there  is  something  of  the  Protestant  in  all  English- 
men, unless  they  are  converts — and  then  they  are  much 
more  Catholic  than  we  are.  It  is  the  land  of  exaggera- 
tions.' 

'If  he  had  really  fallen  in  love  with  Donna  Diana  on 
account  of  her  beauty,  one  could  sympathize  with  him/ 
proceeded  Monsignor  Tomei.  *  It  would  be  less  serious, 
too,  for  there  is  plenty  of  beauty  to  be  had  in  the  world, 
when  one  is  young  and  a  layman.' 

'Less  serious?'  repeated  the  Cardinal. 

*  I  should  say  so,  Eminence.  A  pretty  face  is  easy  to 
find,  but  a  million  of  francs  are  another  affair  altogether. 
And  they  are  practical,  the  English.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  turned  quickly  towards  him. 

'Ah/  he  exclaimed,  'you  think  this  Englishman  wants 
her  money  ?  and  yet  they  say  he  is  rich.  Whom  have  you 
heard  this  from,  monsignore?' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  manner  became  slightly  mysterious. 

'In  my  world,  Eminence,  one  hears  many  things/  he 
replied  evasively,  'especially  things  relating  to  the  moral 
and  financial  difficulties  of  people  in  what  is  called  so- 
ciety. This  Mr.  Vane— 

'  But  Mr.  Vane  is  a  foreigner/  interrupted  the  Cardinal. 


DONNA   DIANA  163 

'  True,  Eminence ;  but  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  is  not 
a  foreigner/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  perplexed. 

'  What  has  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  got  to  do  with  it  ? ' 
he  asked.  '  The  two  are  friends,  certainly,  and  one  can 
understand  that  he  might  like  to  take  Vane's  part.' 

6  Exactly.  It  might  be  worth  his  while  to  do  so.  Self- 
interest,  Eminence,  is  not  invariably  dissociated  from 
friendship.' 

'  No,  indeed,'  remarked  Cardinal  Savelli  dryly.  '  I  have 
had  lately  to  learn  the  truth  of  your  observation.  But  you 
arouse  my  curiosity,  monsignore.  As  you  know,  I  am  in 
entire  ignorance  of  my  nephew  Michelangelo's  affairs.  He 
has  chosen  to  throw  in  his  lot  with  our  adversaries,  and  to 
take  up  a  position  of  which  I  strongly  disapprove.  The 
little  that  reaches  me  concerning  his  mode  of  life  certainly 
does  not  tend  to  lessen  my  disapproval.  No  doubt  you 
know  considerably  more  about  him  than  I  do.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  coughed  discreetly. 

(  Of  course,'  he  replied,  '  it  is  no  affair  of  mine ;  and  if 
one  was  to  listen  to  all  the  tales  one  hears  of  the  pecuniary 
straits  in  which  young  men  like  Don  Michelangelo  find 
themselves,  there  would  be  enough  to  do/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  genuinely  astonished. 

(  Pecuniary  straits  ? '  he  repeated.  '  I  have  been  told 
that  he  gambles.  His  brother  has  often  deplored  the  fact ; 
but,  then,  Marco  declares  that  he  is  very  lucky,  and  that 
he  usually  wins.  I  have  never  heard  of  him  asking  for 
help  from  any  of  the  family.  To  be  sure,  he  would  not 
apply  to  me,  but  I  should  certainly  have  been  told  had 
he  done  so  elsewhere.' 

'I  think,'  said  Monsignor  Tomei  slowly,  'that  Don 
Michelangelo  has  been  more  fortunate  in  his  friends  than 
in  his  cards.' 

'  Friends  do  not  pay  one's  debts,'  said  Cardinal  Savelli 
curtly;  'they  only  help  one  to  add  to  them.' 

e  Perhaps  I  should  have  said  in  his  friend,'  proceeded 
Monsignor  Tomei. 


164  DONNA    DIANA 

'Do  you  mean  to  say  that  this  Englishman  has  paid 
my  nephew's  debts  ? 9  exclaimed  the  Cardinal.  '  But  it  is 
ridiculous,  monsignore!  Those  are  things  which  are  not 
done/ 

He  paused,  and  his  face,  naturally  high-coloured,  be- 
came redder.  His  pride  was  touched.  It  was  not  fitting 
that  a  Savelli  should  take  money  from  a  stranger. 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of 
mingled  curiosity  and  amusement,  much  as  a  cat  looks  at 
the  mouse  it  has  maimed. 

'Don  Michelangelo's  life  is — well,  like  the  life  of  any 
other  young  man  of  the  world,'  he  said.  '  Your  Eminence 
knows  that  his  income  is  not  large.  In  the  last  few 
months  more  than  one  inquiry  has  been  addressed  to  me 
as  to  his  solvency.  It  seems  that  credit  has  been  given 
to  him  the  more  readily  owing  to  the  fact  that  he  is  your 
Eminence's  nephew/ 

'Ah/  exclaimed  Cardinal  Savelli,  'he  has  traded  upon 
that ! ' 

'  I  would  not  do  him  an  injustice,'  returned  Monsignor 
Tomei.  '  The  money-lenders,  of  course,  make  it  their 
business  to  learn  all  they  can  about  their  clients.  In  the 
case  of  Don  Michelangelo,  the  fact  of  his  being  so  closely 
connected  with  your  Eminence  would  naturally  give  them 
confidence  in  dealing  with  him.  I  do  not  mean  to  imply 
that  he  has  wilfully  traded  upon  the  relationship.' 

*  It  is  the  same  thing/  said  the  Cardinal  angrily. 

'Whether  he  has  or  has  not  done  so  is  a  detail/  re- 
sumed Monsignor  Tomei.  'The  fact  remains/  he  con- 
tinued, 'that  Don  Michelangelo's  more  pressing  debts 
have  been  paid.  Your  Eminence,  as  you  said  just  now, 
would  doubtless  have  been  aware  of  it  had  they  been  settled 
by  any  member  of  the  family.  The  inference  is  that  they 
have  been  paid  by  his  English  friend.' 

'  It  is  incredible ! '  muttered  the  Cardinal. 

'  Such  friendships  are  unusual,  certainly/  said  Mon- 
signor Tomei  dryly.  '  They  are  even  romantic.  But  the 
English  are  very  eccentric,  and — well,  it  may  be  a  case 


DONNA   DIANA  165 

of  David  and  Jonathan/  he  concluded,  with  an  almost 
imperceptible  shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  raising  of  his 
black  eyebrows. 

'But  the  motive '  began  Cardinal  Savelli. 

'Oh,  as  to  the  motive,  one  can  never  tell/  interrupted 
Monsignor  Tomei.  '  It  is  a  matter  which  rests  between 
Don  Michelangelo  and  Mr.  Vane.  People  do  not  pay 
money  for  nothing,  that  is  certain;  they  need  repayment 
in  some  form  or  another.  If  Mr.  Vane  has  fallen  in  love 
with  Donna  Diana  Savelli,  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive 
that  he  may  have  found  it  convenient  to  remind  her  cousin 
of  the  latter's  obligations  towards  him.' 

'  I  see/  replied  the  Cardinal  thoughtfully.  '  He  would 
consider  himself  repaid  by  gaining  my  niece's  affec- 
tions/ 

'  And  her  dot'  supplemented  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  '  Don 
Michelangelo  could  hardly  refuse  his  assistance  under  the 
circumstances.  Besides,  one  never  knows;  this  Mr.  Vane 
may  have  some  other  hold  over  him/ 

'But  I  would  never  consent  to  such  a  marriage/  said 
Cardinal  Savelli  decidedly;  'and  without  my  consent  it 
could  not  take  place.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  remained  silent  for  a  few  moments. 

e  If  I  might  venture  to  make  a  suggestion/  he  began 
presently. 

'My  dear  friend/  returned  the  Cardinal,  'make  any 
suggestions  you  please.  I  had  never  given  this  matter 
any  great  attention,  believing  it  to  be  merely  a  question 
of  a  young  man's  very  natural  admiration  for  a  pretty 
girl,  an  admiration  that  would  speedily  be  transferred 
elsewhere  when  the  object  of  it  was  removed.  From  what 
you  tell  me,  however,  it  would  seem  to  be  as  much  a 
matter  of  money  as  of  love,  and  the  collusion  you  have 
hinted  at  is  disgraceful.  What  is  your  suggestion?' 

'Your  Eminence  has  already  forestalled  it/  answered 
Monsignor  Tomei.  'It  is  that  you  should  remove  the 
object  of  admiration  elsewhere.' 

'But  if  I  am  removing  it?    In  a  few  weeks,  as  I  say, 


166  DONNA   DIANA 

my  niece  will  be  in  a  convent,  and  in  the  meantime  Vane 
has  no  chance  of  seeing  her/ 

'  I  was  not  alluding  to  Donna  Diana's  person/  said 
Monsignor  Tomei,  'but  to  her  dot.  The  latter  might  be 
removed  to  a  convent  also.  Then  we  should  see  whether 
the  Englishman  would  continue  to  fancy  himself  in  love. 
We  should  see  also  whether  Don  Michelangelo  would  be 
so  anxious  to  assist  his  friend/ 

'  But  it  is  impossible ! '  exclaimed  the  Cardinal.  '  I 
could  only  hand  over  my  niece's  fortune  to  a  convent 
when  she  becomes  a  professed  nun.  Besides,  you,  of  all 
people,  monsignore,  know  how  inconvenient  it  would  be 
to  do  anything  of  the  kind  before  I  am  legally  bound  to 
do  it/ 

'  Nevertheless,'  persisted  Monsignor  Tomei  quietly,  '  I 
think  that  by  a  little  careful  management  an  arrangement 
might  be  made  whereby  Donna  Diana  would  be  protected 
from  these  intrigues,  and  your  Eminence  relieved  from 
the  financial  difficulties  in  which  you  find  yourself 
involved/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed. 

'I  wish  I  could  see  how  such  a  combination  is  to  be 
arrived  at/  he  replied. 

'  In  any  case,  Donna  Diana  would  be  expected  to  bring 
her  dowry  to  the  convent  she  elects  to  enter/  said  Mon- 
signor Tomei.  *  A  portion  of  it  might  be  reserved  for 
her  to  dispose  of  at  death,  but  your  Eminence  is  aware 
that  such  a  practice  is  not  looked  upon  with  favour  by 
the  heads  of  religious  communities.  When  they  are  so 
fortunate  as  to  secure  a  rich  recruit,  it  is  natural  that 
they  should  prefer  his  or  her  capital  to  remain  intact. 
This  being  so,  an  anticipatory  note  executed  by  Donna 
Diana  pledging  herself  to  endow  the  Order  she  eventually 
joins  with  her  fortune  would  be  of  great  practical  value 
to  that  Order,  though  it  would  have  no  legal  value,  being 
executed  by  a  minor.  Of  course,  I  am  basing  my  argu- 
ment on  the  supposition  that  she  remains  firm  in  her 
determination  to  take  her  final  vows.  The  only  two  things 


DONNA   DIANA  167 

that  could  interfere  with  that  determination  would  be,  to 
speak  plainly,  love  or  death/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  gave  a  slight  shudder. 

'  It  is  true/  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  and  then  he  glanced 
at  Monsignor  Tomei  uneasily.  '  The  latter  is  not  in  our 
hands/  he  continued ;  e  but  have  we  any  right  to  prevent 
the  former  from  ever  reaching  her  ? ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him  with  an  air  of  surprise, 
which,  if  not  genuine,  was  at  least  well  feigned. 

'But,  Eminence/  he  replied,  'who  can  presume  to  in- 
terfere with  the  ways  of  Almighty  God?  He  has  thought 
fit  to  endow  Donna  Diana  with  a  vocation  to  a  higher  life 
— to  choose  her  for  Himself/ 

'He  has  endowed  her  with  human  nature  as  well — a 
woman's  nature/  answered  the  Cardinal,  and  there  was 
a  touch  of  impatience  in  his  voice  and  manner.  '  As 
long  as  she  was  a  child/  he  added,  'it  did  not  seem  un- 
fitting— this  destiny  she  has  chosen.  Children  are  nearer 
to  God  than  grown-up  people.  But  now,  when  one  looks 
at  her,  it  is  another  thing.  One  looks,  and  thinks  of 
how  it  might  be  with  her,  and  of  the  joys  that  she  will 
never  know  in  this  life — the  joys  of  love,  of  maternity, 
the  satisfying  of  her  womanhood/  And  he  sighed  again. 

'  The  Church  advocates  the  repression  of  human  nature, 
not  its  satisfaction/  observed  Monsignor  Tomei  somewhat 
unctuously. 

Cardinal  Savelli  gave  him  a  quick  look,  in  which  there 
was  a  momentary  expression  of  contempt. 

'  I  was  not  thinking  of  the  Church,  monsignore/  he 
replied  coldly.  '  In  our  predecessors'  days,  here  in  Eome, 
we  are  told  that  the  augurs  occasionally  laid  aside  their 
supernatural  pretensions  when  in  each  other's  company/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  affected  not  to  notice  the  sarcasm, 
although  he  appreciated  it. 

'  It  is  very  natural  that  your  Eminence  should  regret 
Donna  Diana's  determination  to  enter  religion  when  you 
consider  it  from  a  worldly  point  of  view/  he  remarked 
suavely.  'If  there  are  any  grounds  for  supposing  her  to 


168  DONNA   DIANA 

be  in  love,  it  would,  of  course,  be  most  unfair  not  to 
leave  her  absolutely  free  to  decide  as  her  conscience  might 
dictate.  But  I  imagine  that  there  are  no  such  grounds/ 
he  added. 

6  Certainly  not/  replied  the  Cardinal.  '  So  far,  al- 
though the  state  of  my  niece's  mind  has  been  very  care- 
fully watched  by  those  around  her,  there  is  nothing  to 
lead  to  the  suspicion-  that  any  conception  of  material 
love  has  disturbed  it.' 

'A  clear  proof  of  Almighty  God's  intentions  regarding 
her/  said  Monsignor  Tomei. 

'It  may  be  so/  returned  Cardinal  Savelli.  'As  you 
say,  we  dare  not  presume  to  interfere  with  a  genuine  voca- 
tion, and  my  niece  has  certainly  given  us  every  reason  to 
believe  her  vocation  to  be  genuine.  At  any  rate,  mon- 
signore,  it  shall  not  be  disturbed  by  a  fortune-hunter.' 

6 1  should  not  go  so  far  as  to  say  that  this  Englishman 
is  a  mere  fortune-hunter/  said  Monsignor  Tomei,  'for 
we  know  him  to  be  rich.  It  is  conceivable  that  he  ad- 
mires Donna  Diana  Savelli  quite  apart  from  her  money.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

'I  do  not  understand/  he  said.  'A  few  moments  ago 
you  advocated  the  immediate  surrender  of  my  niece's  for- 
tune to  a  religious  community  on  the  grounds  that  the 
knowledge  of  her  dot  being  disposed  of  would  frighten 
away  this  admirer  of  hers;  now  you  confess  that  you 
believe  him  to  be  in  love  with  her,  and  not  with  her 
money.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  attempted  to  speak,  but  the  Cardinal 
silenced  him  with  a  wave  of  his  hand. 

'In  any  case/  he  continued,  'your  suggestion  does 
not  seem  to  me  to  be  very  sound,  monsignore.  Both 
Mr.  Vane  and  my  nephew  Michelangelo  would  be  per- 
fectly well  aware  that  the  money  could  not  legally  be 
disposed  of  by  Donna  Diana  until  she  was  of  age.  More- 
over, though  I  quite  understand  that  my  nephew  might 
desire  to  help  his  friend  to  attain  his  object,  I  do  not 
see  what  pecuniary  advantages  he  would  gain  by  doing  so.' 


DONNA   DIANA  169 

Monsignor  Tomei  began  to  lose  his  patience. 

'Listen,  Eminence/  he  replied.  'If  you  permit  this 
intrigue — for  it  is  an  intrigue — to  continue,  you  may  find 
yourself  confronted  at  any  moment  by  grave  difficulties. 
The  paying  over  of  Donna  Diana's  do t  to  a  husband  would 
mean  ruin.  You  would  have  to  produce  the  whole  of  it, 
and,  let  us  speak  frankly,  the  whole  of  it  is  no  longer  in 
existence  to  produce.  You  do  not  understand  how  Don 
Michelangelo  Savelli  benefits  by  endeavouring  to  bring 
about  an  alliance  between  his  friend  and  his  cousin.  I 
will  tell  your  Eminence.  Don  Michelangelo  is  in  his 
friend's  debt.  Horses,  cards,  women — these  things  run 
away  with  money;  and  the  Englishman  has  paid,  on  the 
understanding,  no  doubt,  that  Don  Michelangelo  helps 
him  to  gain  Donna  Diana's  love.  And  Don  Michelangelo, 
as  your  Eminence  knows,  is  no  good  Catholic.  Having 
failed  to  influence  his  cousin  against  our  holy  religion 
in  other  ways,  he  is  now  endeavouring  to  prevent  her  from 
fulfilling  her  vocation  by  throwing  in  her  path  tempta- 
tion to  carnal  desires.' 

'  But  he  will  not  succeed,'  said  Cardinal  Savelli.  '  God 
will  protect  His  own.' 

6  He  is  doing  so  by  placing  in  your  Eminence's  hands 
a  means  whereby  his  aims  may  be  defeated,'  returned 
Monsignor  Tomei. 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed. 

'  It  is  strange,'  he  said,  '  how  different  Michelangelo  is 
from  his  brother.  My  niece  must  indeed  be  protected, 
monsignore,  and  I  shall  take  steps  to  hasten  her  recep- 
tion into  the  convent  at  Florence.  The  sooner  she  com- 
mences her  novitiate,  the  better.' 

e  I  quite  agree  with  your  Eminence,'  said  Monsignor 
Tomei,  *  and  I  would  add,  The  sooner  Donna  Diana's 
fortune  is  safely  disposed  of,  the  better.  Its  bestowal 
upon  a  religious  community  could  not,  of  course,  take 
effect  for  the  present;  nevertheless ' 

e  I  have  never  discussed  the  question  of  her  fortune 
with  my  niece,'  interrupted  Cardinal  Savelli.  'A  girl 


170  DONNA   DIANA 

of  her  age  does  not'  trouble  her  head  about  such  mat- 
ters.' , 

'  She  would  probably  have  no  objection  to  sign  any 
document  concerning  it  that  your  Eminence  advised/ 
suggested  Monsignor  Tomei. 

6  No/  replied  the  Cardinal  hesitatingly.  '  But  why 
make  any  change  in  the  situation  ?  It  will  be  time  enough 
to  discuss  those  matters  with  her  when  she  is  about  to 
take  her  vows.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  spread  out  his  hands  with  an  apol- 
ogetic gesture. 

6  Of  course/  he  said,  '  your  Eminence  knows  best.  I 
only  presume  to  offer  a  suggestion  from  a  business  point 
of  view,  feeling  that  its  adoption  would  not  only  serve 
as  a  check  to  certain  designs  upon  Diana's  happiness  and 
peace  of  mind,  but  also  afford  you  a  guarantee  that  you 
would  not  be  called  upon  to  disburse  a  sum  of  money 
which  is  not  available.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  passed  the  gold  chain  to  which  his 
jewelled  cross  was  attached  nervously  through  his  hands. 

'  Naturally/  he  replied,  *  one  must  look  at  these  things 
from  a  business  point  of  view/ 

'  Precisely,  Eminence ;  it  is  only  right  to  do  so.  Per- 
haps you  will  allow  me  to  explain  more  fully  my  sugges- 
tion that  Donna  Diana  Savelli  should  be  brought  to  see 
the  advisability  of  signing  an  anticipatory  note  testify- 
ing to  her  intention  of  endowing  her  Order  with  her 
fortune,  when  the  latter  is  no  longer  in  trust.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  nodded  silently. 

'  It  is  a  matter  of  business/  repeated  Monsignor  Tomei, 
'and  I  speak  as  a  business  man.  Your  Eminence  is  in 
possession  of  the  facts  concerning  the  unfortunate  dispute 
in  connection  with  the  convent  in  Via  Lombardia.' 

'Altro!'  exclaimed  the  Cardinal.  '  I  do  not  know 
which  of  the  contending  communities  is  the  more  tire- 
some ! ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  laughed  gently. 

*  We  have  succeeded  in  effecting  a  compromise/  he  con- 


DONNA   DIANA  171 

tinned,  'and  the  nuns  will  remain  where  they  are.  At 
least,  I  have  prevented  the  quarrel  from  becoming  a  public 
scandal.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  nodded  approvingly. 

'  Bene,  bene ! '  he  murmured.  '  Nothing  is  so  deplor- 
able as  publicity.  But  what  have  the  nuns  in  the  Via 
Lombardia  to  do  with  our  subject,  monsignore  ? ' 

1  They  need  money/  replied  Monsignor  Tomei.  ( The 
property  is  valuable,  and  will  increase  in  value.  Your 
Eminence  knows  the  Reverend  Mother — a  most  estimable 
person.  A  nun  with  such  a  dowry  as  Donna  Diana  Sa- 
velli could  bring  would  be  very  welcome  there/  he  added 
abruptly. 

Cardinal  Savelli  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  a  habit 
with  him  when  thinking  deeply. 

'But  the  money/  he  said  presently  in  a  low  voice. 
6  That  would  always  have  to  be  paid.  You  are  merely 
substituting  the  Mother  Superior  for  Mr.  Vane;  that  is 
all  your  scheme  results  in,  monsignore/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  smiled.  It  was  the  same  objection 
that  he  had  himself  made  to  Marco. 

'  Not  at  any  rate  for  three  years/  he  replied ;  c  and  even 
then  arrangements  might  be  made.  It  is  on  this  point 
that  I  venture  to  believe  I  might  be  of  some  service  to 
your  Eminence.  My  idea  would  be  that  Donna  Diana's 
promise  to  make  over  the  whole  of  her  fortune  to  the 
convent  should  not  take  effect  for  another  three  years 
after  her  final  entry  into  the  community.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  lookecl  up  quickly. 

'  Ah ! '  he  exclaimed  with  an  accent  as  if  of  relief.  '  It 
would  indeed  give  me  breathing  -  space !  Six  years — so 
much  may  happen  in  six  years ! ' 

e  Exactly/  said  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  It  is,  if  one  may 
say  so,  a  respite.' 

The  tone  of  his  voice  was  scarcely  pleasant;  but  Car- 
dinal Savelli,  occupied  with  his  own  thoughts,  did  not 
notice  this. 

'  The  certainty  that  in  a  few  years'  time  so  considerable 


172  DONNA    DIANA 

a  sum  would  fall  in  would  be  of  great  pecuniary  value  to 
the  community  in  the  present/  added  Monsignor  Tomei. 
'As  much  can  sometimes  be  done  in  Eome  by  promising 
to  pay  money  as  by  actually  paying  it,'  he  added  with  a 
short,  harsh  laugh.  e  It  is  a  question  of  judicious  manage- 
ment.' 

'It  would  necessitate  a  change  of  plans,'  said  the  Car- 
dinal. '  I  had  intended  that  my  niece  should  undergo 
her  novitiate  at  Florence,  as  I  have  told  you.' 

'  Tinder  the  circumstances,'  replied  Monsignor  Tomei, 
'  I  should  suggest  that  Donna  Diana  should  pass  her 
novitiate  with  the  nuns  in  Via  Lombardia.' 

fWe  must  consider  it,  monsignore,'  said  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli.  '  I  am  beyond  measure  disgusted  at  what  I  hear 
from  you  concerning  my  nephew  Michelangelo,'  he  added; 
'  but  it  only  coincides  with  hints  which  his  brother  Marco 
has  given  me  from  time  to  time  as  to  the  wildness  of  his 
life.  Of  course,  Marco  has  not  said  anything  definite. 
He  is  generous,  and  though  he  disapproves  of  his  brother, 
he  would  not  wish  to  injure  him.  Indeed,  he  says  all  he 
can  say  in  his  favour.  However,  we  will  dismiss  the  sub- 
ject for  the  present.  It  becomes  doubly  my  duty  to  pro- 
tect my  niece  from  these  discreditable  intrigues.' 

'  The  more  so  because  Don  Michelangelo  is  striving  not 
only  to  advance  his  own  interest  at  his  cousin  Donna 
Diana's  expense,  but  to  prevent  her  from  obeying  the  voice 
of  her  conscience/  said  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  Your  Em- 
inence/ he  added,  'is  def ending % not  only  the  welfare  of 
your  niece's  soul,  but  also  the  authority  of  the  Church.' 

( Yes/  returned  Cardinal  Savelli  decidedly,  '  the  author- 
ity of  the  Church — my  nephew  has  too  little  respect  for 
that.  I  suppose,  monsignore/  he  continued  suddenly, 
'  that  Marco  has  no  knowledge  of  what  you  have  told  me. 
It  would  be  as  well,  perhaps,  for  me  to  consult  him  before 
taking  any  decided  steps.' 

'I  never  see  Don  Marco/  replied  Monsignor  Tomei, 
'  except  on  the  rare  occasions  when  we  meet  in  your  Em- 
inence's presence.  He  may,  of  course,  have  heard  what 


DONNA   DIANA  173 

I  have  heard,  but  I  do  not  think  it  probable.  My  infor- 
mation comes  to  me  quite  accidentally.  There  is  no 
reason  why  I  should  not  be  frank  with  your  Eminence. 
A  well-known  money-lender  in  this  city  referred  to  me 
through  a  mutual  acquaintance,  as  being  a  person  likely 
to  be  well  informed  as  to  Don  Michelangelo's  affairs.  It 
appears  that  Don  Michelangelo  had  asked  for  the  renewal 
of  certain  bills  drawn  by  him  that  had  become  due.  Nat- 
urally, I  declined  to  furnish  any  information.  Soon  after- 
wards I  heard,  to  my  surprise,  that  the  bills  had  been 
redeemed,  and  that  Don  Michelangelo  had  presented  a 
cheque  for  their  amount,  drawn  in  his  favour  on  a  London 
bank  by  an  Englishman  named  Vane,  of  whose  solvency 
the  money-lender  had  assured  himself  by  making  inquiries 
of  an  English  banker  here  in  Kome.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  chair  and  extended  his 
hand. 

'  It  is  an  extraordinary  story,'  he  said,  c  and  had  it  not 
been  for  you,  monsignore,  I  should  probably  not  have 
heard  of  it.  Marco  would  not  care  to  mention  anything 
so  little  to  his  brother's  credit,  even  if  he  were  aware  of 
it,  which,  you  say,  is  not  at  all  likely.  I  will  speak  to 
him  about  it,  and  we  can  then  decide  as  to  what  should 
be  done.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  took  his  leave.  He  was  on  the  whole 
very  well  satisfied  with  the  result  of  his  interview.  Car- 
dinal Savelli,  it  was  clear,  was  suspicious  and  mortified 
in  his  family  pride.  It  would  only  need  a  little  more 
tightening  of  the  bonds  in  which  he  held  him,  Monsignor 
Tomei  thought,  and  the  reinvestment  of  Donna  Diana 
Savelli's  fortune  might  be  regarded  as  already  confided 
to  his  management. 


CHAPTEK   XV 

THE  month  of  May  was  already  well  advanced,  and  Home 
was  fast  assuming  its  summer  aspect.  The  sunny  sides 
of  the  streets  and  piazze  were  deserted,  save,  perhaps,  by 
a  few  English  tourists  and  an  occasional  dog.  From  mid- 
day until  four  o'clock  an  unusual  silence  seemed  to  pos- 
sess the  city,  broken  only  by  the  monotonous  cries  of  the 
sellers  of  acqua  acetosa  to  cool  the  blood,  or  the  vendors 
of  strawberries  from  Nemi,  and  fresh  vegetables  from  the 
market-gardens  without  the  walls.  The  foreign  society 
was  rapidly  dispersing,  and  though  the  Eoman  and  official 
world  yet  remained,  the  yearly  round  of  social  functions 
was  over,  and  people  had  leisure  to  realize  how  weary  they 
had  become  of  each  other. 

It  was  the  season  when  Eome  is  pleasantest — when  no- 
body wants  to  be  taken  round  the  Forum  or  into  St. 
Peter's,  and  the  '  days '  of  Eoman  hostesses  have  become 
as  nightmares  of  the  past. 

After  his  meeting  with  Donna  Diana  Savelli  in  the 
gardens  of  the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo,  Edmund  Vane  had 
become  unusually  restless.  The  thought  that  Eome  held 
within  its  walls  the  being  he  longed  to  possess — that  she 
was  so  near  and  yet  so  inaccessible  to  him — was  a  per- 
petual torture.  Since  that  day  he  had  never  beheld  Diana. 
The  idea  of  again  attempting  to  see  her  at  the  Palazzo 
Castelnuovo  he  had  dismissed  from  his  mind  as  not  only 
imprudent,  but  also  unfair  upon  her.  He  could  not  doubt 
but  that  she  had  understood  him,  and  he  felt  that  his  only 
hopes  of  arousing  her  love  lay  in  showing  her  his  deter- 
mination not  to  attempt  to  force  his  own  upon  her.  It 
might  be  that  she  would  reflect  over  what  she  had  heard 
from  him,  and  that,  through  reflection,  doubts  would  arise 

174 


DONNA   DIANA  175 

in  her  mind  as  to  whether  she  had  not  been  too  precipitate 
in  electing  to  abjure  all  earthly  love.  That  some  such 
doubts  should  come  to  her  was  the  most  he  at  present 
dared  to  hope. 

In  the  meantime,  no  tidings  of  any  sort  concerning 
Diana  had  reached  him.  To  Lino  Savelli's  annoyance  and 
his  own,  the  former  had  been  obliged  to  leave  Eome  in 
order  to  go  through  a  short  course  of  cavalry  manoeuvres 
with  his  late  regiment  at  Turin.  This  course  was  merely 
one  of  the  periodical  recalls  to  military  duty  to  which 
officers  and  men  who  have  undergone  their  term  of  service 
with  the  colours  are  liable.  It  would  not  entail  an  absence 
of  more  than  three  weeks ;  nevertheless,  Vane  could  not  but 
feel  that  Lino's  departure  had  come  at  a  singularly  in- 
opportune moment.  As  long  as  the  latter  was  in  Eome 
there  was  always  a  link  with  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco;  for 
even  if  all  other  sources  of  information  as  to  the  doings 
of  its  inmates  were  temporarily  closed  to  him,  a  few  min- 
utes' conversation  with  the  old  porter,  Antonio,  would 
speedily  have  made  Lino  acquainted  with  all  that  might  be 
happening  within  its  walls.  Edmund  had  hoped  that  pos- 
sibly Ersilia  might  have  made  some  communication  to  Lino* 
before  the  latter's  departure,  but  no  word  had  come  from 
her;  and,  to  make  matters  worse,  Lino,  on  going  to  the 
porter's  lodge  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco, 
had  found  Antonio  absent  from  his  post,  being  confined 
to  bed  with  lumbago. 

Sometimes  Vane  thought  that  he,  too,  would  leave  Eome. 
He  tried  to  force  an  interest  in  its  art  and  antiquities,  in 
which  he  had  once  found  pleasure.  He  would  wander 
through  the  cool  galleries  of  the  Vatican  under  the  im- 
pression that  he  was  looking  at  the  sculptures;  but  would 
usually  end  by  finding  himself  dreaming  in  the  little  court 
of  Belvedere,  where  the  fountain,  gurgling  in  its  marble 
basin,  and  the  joyous  screaming  of  the  swifts,  circling  in 
the  blue  sky  above  him,  seemed  to  soothe  his  restless 
thoughts.  He  had  even  pretended  to  a  well-known  archae- 
ologist that  he  was  interested  in  ancient  Eoman  remains, 


176  DONNA    DIANA 

with  the  result  that  he  had  been  compelled  to  stand  for 
hours  under  a  broiling  sun,  while  the  latest  discoveries 
unearthed  in  the  Forum  were  restored  to  their  pristine  con- 
dition through  the  erudite  imagination  of  the  enthusiastic 
professor. 

Edmund  Vane  would  certainly  not  have  ventured  to  con- 
fess to  his  guide  that  the  principal  impression  derived 
from  such  visits  was  as  of  having  spent  some  hours  in  an 
ill-ventilated  main-drain  with  somebody  at  his  elbow  at- 
tempting to  explain  away  bad  smells  by  means  of  Roman 
history. 

It  was  with  no  archaeological  interest  that  Vane  wan- 
dered on  to  the  Palatine  one  warm  afternoon  towards  the 
end  of  May.  The  Palatine  was  one  of  his  favourite  resorts 
in  Rome,  especially  in  late  spring-time,  when  the  bases  of 
the  brown  ruins  are  wreathed  in  wildflowers;  when  the 
nightingales  and  thrushes  make  music  in  the  halls  of  the 
Cassars  as  the  long  shadows  of  evening  fall  across  the 
Forum;  when  the  cool  breeze  sweeps  up  from  the  sea, 
gently  swaying  the  tops  of  the  cypress-trees  and  causing 
the  roses  to  scatter  their  red  petals  on  the  old  mosaic 
floors,  to  be  gathered  up,  perchance,  in  the  night-time  by 
ghostly  hands,  and  strewn  before  imperial  guests  at  some 
spectral  banquet. 

Vane  strolled  carelessly  onwards  towards  the  top  of  the 
hill,  and  turned  down  the  narrow  pathway  that  leads  along 
its  edge.  The  massive  arches  at  its  extremity  shone,  golden- 
coloured,  in  the  westering  sun,  and  through  them,  fitting 
frames  to  water-colour  sketches  fairer  and  more  delicate 
than  ever  limned  by  mortal  artist,  he  could  discern  the  blue 
distances  of  the  Alban  Hills  and  the  great  green  plain 
stretching  away  to  Ostia  and  the  sea. 

The  Palatine  was  almost  deserted.  A  civil  custode  came 
up  to  him  and  offered  his  services,  retiring  with  a  laugh 
when  Vane  explained  that  he  had  come  to  enjoy  the  fresh 
air  and  the  view,  and  not  to  reconstruct  the  palace  of  the 
emperors. 

It  was  with  a  start  of  surprise,  therefore,  that,  after  he 


DONNA    DIANA  177 

had  been  sitting  for  some  minutes  on  the  capital  of  a 
shattered  column,  he  heard  a  voice  behind  him  pronounce 
his  name,  and,  turning,  found  himself  confronted  by 
Monsieur  de  Villebois. 

'  Good-evening,  my  dear  Vane/  the  latter  said,  with  a 
quiet  smile.  '  You  are  brooding  over  the  past  ?  I  did  not 
know  you  studied  the  antiquities.' 

tf  And  you  ? '  replied  Edmund,  as  he  shook  hands  with 
him. 

'  I  ?  I  have  studied  them  during  the  last  six  months 
in  the  drawing-rooms  of  my  acquaintances.  Next  winter 
I  shall  study  them  again.  As  you  are  aware,  my  dear 
friend,  the  Roman  season  is  over,  and  the  antiquities  are 
resting/ 

Edmund  laughed.  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  little  cyni- 
cisms were  always  refreshing. 

'  I  came  to  the  Palatine  to  enjoy  Nature,'  he  said. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  chuckled. 

'For  an  Englishman,'  he  observed,  'that  reply  is  ad- 
mirable. But  I  have  always  said  it — you  have  de  I'esprit. 
And  what  have  you  been  doing  with  yourself  lately?  I 
have  not  seen  you  in  the  world.  I  hear  that  Lino  Savelli 
has  gone  to  Turin.  And  you — are  you  not  going  to  do  as 
everybody  else,  and  leave  Rome  just  as  the  life  here  be- 
comes tolerable  ? ' 

f  No,'  replied  Vane ;  ( I  am  not  thinking  of  leaving 
Rome  at  present.' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  looked  at  him  shrewdly. 

( Ah  ! '  he  said ; '  even  though  the  Princess  San  Rocco  no 
longer  receives  ? ' 

e  I  have  not  been  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  since  Easter,' 
said  Edmund. 

'  That  is  what  comes  of  being  indiscreet,'  returned  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois.  *  You  should  have  pretended  to  be  in 
love  with  Donna  Giulia,  or  with  Donna  Maria.  Then 
your  visits  would  have  been  encouraged.  I  have  heard 
that  you  are  in  disgrace ;  and  not  you  only,  but  your  friend 
Lino  also,' 


178  DONNA   DIANA 

f  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  Princess  San  Kocco  has  talked 
about  it  ? '  asked  Vane  quickly. 

'  The  Princess  ?  Oh  no,  not  that  I  know  of ;  but  other 
people  have  talked  about  it.  The  Countess  Verini  has  a 
story — but  it  is  no  use  repeating  what  one  hears  in  Borne/ 
broke  off  Monsieur  de  Villebois  abruptly. 

'  Countess  Verini ! '  exclaimed  Edmund.  '  What  can  she 
know  of  my  motive  for  not  going  to  the  Palazzo  San 
Rocco?' 

'  Very  little,  probably/  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois  dryly. 
6  A  sufficient  reason  to  make  a  woman  talk/ 

'  I  should  very  much  like  to  hear  what  she  has  said/  re- 
turned Edmund. 

The  other  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

'  Well/  he  replied,  '  I  do  not  see  why  you  should  not 
know.  Indeed,  it  would  only  be  friendly  on  my  part  to 
tell  you,  for  very  often  the  person  chiefly  concerned  in  a 
story  is  the  last  to  hear  it.  Only,  my  dear  Vane,  you  must 
not  be  offended;  and,  above  all,  you  must  not  lose  your 
temper.  You  will  not  commit  either  folly?  Then  I  will 
tell  you  what  Countess  Verini  says  about  you.  It  appears 
— I  am  only  quoting  her,  remember — that  Donna  Diana 
Savelli  complained  to  her  aunt,  Princess  San  Rocco,  that 
you  were  making  love  to  her/ 

Edmund  gave  utterance  to  his  feelings  in  English. 

( Damn  Countess  Verini ! '  he  muttered. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  smiled.  He  did  not  know  much 
of  the  English  language,  but  he  was  acquainted  with  its 
most  popular  expression. 

'  I  quite  agree  with  you/  he  said ;  *  but  it  is  no  use  being 
premature.  Yes,  you  made  love  to  Donna  Diana  Savelli — 
but  in  your  brutal  English  way,  you  know.  You  did  not 
explain  the  state  of  your  feelings  to  her  relatives  before 
approaching  her,  and  you  tried  to  take  advantage  of  her 
inexperience  to  force  your  affections  upon  her,  though  you 
knew  that  she  was  destined  to  a  religious  life.  Naturally, 
Countess  Verini  is  deeply  shocked  at  your  attempts  to  cor- 
rupt the  mind  of  a  young  girl  about  to  enter  a  convent.  I 


DONNA   DIANA  179 

think  I  once  explained  to  you  that  she  is  very  punctual 
in  her  attendance  upon  what  she  calls  her  religious 
duties/ 

*  Go  on,  De  Villebois/  said  Vane  shortly,  as  Monsieur 
de  Villebois  paused.  'What  else  does  Countess  Verini 
say?' 

'  Oh,  a  great  deal,'  continued  the  latter — ( some  things, 
indeed,  which  I  should  prefer  not  to  tell  you/ 

6  But  I  would  rather  hear  them/  said  Edmund.  '  I  re- 
gard it  as  a  friendly  act  on  your  part  to  tell  me  what  is 
being  said.  Probably,  as  you  observed  just  now,  I  should 
be  the  last  person  to  hear  it.  It  is  amusing,  though/  he 
added  suddenly ; (  for  only  a  day  or  two  ago  I  met  Countess 
Verini  walking  in  the  Piazza  di  Spagna,  and  she  upbraided 
me  for  not  coming  to  see  her.  Why  should  she  wish  to  see 
a  person  whom  she  is  abusing  so  freely  ? ' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  My  dear  Vane/  he  replied,  ( it  is  not  at  all  diverting  to 
abuse  one's  enemies;  the  real  pleasure  is  to  take  away  the 
characters  of  one's  friends.  Countess  Verini  in  that  re- 
spect resembles  another  lady  with  whom  both  you  and  I 
are  acquainted.  I  have  seen  the  latter  kiss  a  dear  friend 
on  both  cheeks,  and  give  her  at  least  two  illegitimate  babies 
before  she  had  got  downstairs.  But  I  am  wrong  to  say  that 
Countess  Verini  is  mauvaise  langue,  like  our  friend  the 
Principessa  Giannini.  Eeally  clever  women  are  seldom  ill- 
natured;  it  does  not  pay  well  in  the  long-run.  Countess 
Verini  knows  her  world,  and  generally  has  a  good  word  to 
say  for  everybody  in  it.  But,  being  a  religious  woman,  she 
is  scandalized  at  your  behaviour.  To  meet  a  young  girl — 
dedicated  to  the  service  of  the  Church ' 

Edmund  started  guiltily. 

'  How  on  earth  did  she  know  ? '  he  broke  in.  Then,  con- 
scious of  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  calm,  penetrating  gaze,  he 
checked  himself  abruptly. 

'  I  was  about  to  say/  proceeded  the  latter  quietly,  '  that 
to  meet  a  young  girl  of  whose  intention  to  become  a  nun 
you  had  been  duly  informed,  and  immediately  to  try  to 


180  DONNA   DIANA 

make  love  to  her,  is  naturally  shocking  to  religious  people 
such  as  the  Countess  Verini.' 

Vane  breathed  more  freely.  He  had  wondered  for  a 
moment  whether  Ersilia  had  betrayed  the  fact  of  Lino  and 
himself  having  met  Diana  in  the  gardens  of  the  Palazzo 
Castelnuovo.  For  Diana's  sake  he  did  not  wish  that  it- 
should  be  known  he  had  ever  spoken  with  her  except  in  her 
aunt's  house.  Nevertheless,  his  uneasiness  had  not  escaped 
the  observation  of  the  diplomatist  at  his  elbow. 

' Decidedly/  thought  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'they  have 
met  in  secret  and  he  has  spoken  to  her.  Of  course,  my  dear 
Vane/  he  continued,  lighting  a  cigarette  with  some  de- 
liberation as  he  spoke,  '  you  are  as  well  able  as  I  am  to  put 
two  and  two  together.  It  is  no  business  of  mine  whether 
Countess  Verini's  stories  are  true  or  false.  I  may  have  my 
own  opinion  as  to  their  veracity,  but  that  is  another  matter.' 

'  I  should  like  to  know  your  opinion/  said  Edmund. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  glanced  at  him  with  a  slight  smile. 

6  My  opinion  is/  he  replied, '  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
smoke  and  some  fire.  In  other  words,  Countess  Verini's 
assertions  are  based  upon  facts.  Naturally,  her  informant 
is  Marco  Savelli,  and  Marco  Savelli  is  not  likely  to  look 
favourably  on  your  enterprise.  It  is  not  you,  however,  who 
are  likely  to  be  most  damaged  by  these  stories.' 

'  That  is  the  worst  of  it/  said  Edmund.  '  I  should  not 
care  at  all  what  stories  might  be  circulated  in  Eome  con- 
cerning me,  but  I  do  care  that  Donna  Diana  Savelli  should 
not  be  gossiped  about.' 

f  Donna  Diana  will  not  suffer  either/  returned  Monsieur 
de  Villebois.  '  There  are  plenty  of  people  who  would  be 
ready  to  sympathize  with  you  both,  if  it  were  not  for  other 
tales  which  are  being  spread.  Your  friend  Lino  will  suffer 
more  than  either  of  you/ 

( Lino ! '  exclaimed  Vane.  <  Why  should  he  be  dragged 
into  the  business  ?  ' 

'But  he  is  very  much  dragged  in/  said  Monsieur  de 
Villebois.  '  Shall  I  be  frank  with  you  ?  '  he  continued.  '  It 
is  said  that  in  order  to  gain  his  goodwill  and  assistance 


DONNA   DIANA  181 

you  have  paid  his  debts.  Had  people  thought  it  an  affair 
of  love,  their  sympathies  would  have  been  aroused.  There 
are  not  wanting  those  who  look  with  little  approval  on  girls 
like  Donna  Diana  Savelli  being  encouraged  to  go  into  con- 
vents ;  but  it  has  been  made  to  figure  as  an  affair  of  money.' 

Vane's  face  flushed  angrily. 

e  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  explain/  he  said  briefly. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  lighted  another  cigarette. 

'  Certainly/  he  repeated ;  ( an  affair  of  money.  You  can 
understand  how  such  an  aspect  of  the  case  kills  the 
romance  of  it,  and,  therefore,  any  sympathy  it  might  have 
excited.  Unfortunately  for  you,  and  for  herself— poor 
child! — Donna  Diana  has  a  good  dot,  as  dots  go  in  this 
country.  If  you  think  that  ces  messieurs  of  the  Church  are 
going  to  let  a  million  of  francs  fall  into  the  pockets  of  a 
husband  you  are  very  much  mistaken.  Of  course,  you  and 
Lino  Savelli  are  held  up  to  obloquy  for  presuming  to  inter- 
fere with  the  ways  of  Almighty  God,  whereas  in  reality 
you  are  interfering  with  the  course  of  the  almighty 
dollar." 

'  And  so  I  have  bought  Lino's  assistance  by  paying  his 
debts/  said  Vane,  with  a  short  laugh,  ( and  am  to  be  repaid 
by  his  cousin's  dot.  A  very  honourable  arrangement,  and 
equally  creditable  both  to  Lino  and  to  myself.' 

f  That  is  what  has  been  said/  replied  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois quietly.  '  I  need  hardly  say,"  he  added, ( that  I  do  not 
believe  a  word  of  it.  Had  I  done  so,  I  should  not  have 
mentioned  the  story  to  you.' 

'  The  thing  would  be  absurd  were  it  not  insulting/  said 
Edmund  angrily.  '  To  begin  with,  I  don't  believe  Lino  has 
any  debts  to  speak  of,  and  if  he  had,  he  certainly  would  not 
have  allowed  me  to  pay  them.  We  can  both  of  us  afford 
to  regard  the  assertion  as  to  our  supposed  motives  as  too 
contemptible  to  be  refuted.' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  shook  his  head. 

'  You  may  ignore  it/  he  said,  ( or  contradict  it,  and 
prove  it  to  be  false,  but  it  will  not  be  of  much  use.  If  once 
you  cross  the  pecuniary  or  political  path  of  the  sacristy  in 


182  DONNA   DIANA 

this  country,  the  basest  motives  are  certain  to  be  imputed 
to  you.  In  these  days  it  is  generally  recognised  as  too 
dangerous  to  take  away  the  life  of  an  obnoxious  individual. 
It  is  safer,  and  sometimes  equally  effective,  to  take  away 
his  character.  The  professionally  religious  are  experts  in 
the  latter  process :  they  poison  with  words  now/ 

Vane's  face  suddenly  assumed  a  dogged  expression. 

'  There  is  one  thing  they  forget/  he  said,  '  and  that  is 
that  they  are  dealing  with  an  English  gentleman.  I  am 
not  at  all  afraid  of  ces  messieurs,  as  you  call  them,  and  am 
quite  indifferent  as  to  what  they  may  say  of  me.  But  it 
is  otherwise  as  regards  Lino  Savelli.  He  belongs  to  the 
country,  whereas  I  am  merely  an  independent  foreigner, 
to  whom  the  good  or  the  bad  word  of  Eoman  society  is  a 
very  trifling  matter.  For  Lino's  sake,  De  Villebois,  I  will 
find  out  who  has  started  this  story  that  I  have  paid  his 
debts,  and  he  or  she  will  have  to  confess  that  it  is  false. 
Donna  Diana's  name  need  not  be  brought  into  the  affair ; 
it  will  be  very  easy  to  prove  that  her  cousin  has  never  re- 
ceived any  money  from  me/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  laid  his  hand  on  his  companion's 
arm. 

'  Now  you  are  losing  your  temper,'  he  said,  '  and  the 
matter  is  not  worth  it.  Let  your  friends  and  Lino's  con- 
tradict the  story  for  you,  but  take  no  notice  of  it  yourself. 
After  all,  you  are  dealing  with  very  little  dogs,  you  know ; 
you  can  afford  to  let  them  yap/ 

( I  can — yes ;  but  Lino 

'  Oh,  the  very  people  who  will  abuse  him  for  taking  your 
money  will  secretly  admire  him  for  having  been  astute 
enough  to  get  it  out  of  you.  Lino  can  take  very  good  care 
of  himself.  The  story  is  clever,  decidedly,  because,  as  I  say, 
it  will  estrange  sympathy  from  you,  if  it  is  true  that  you 
wish  to  marry  Donna  Diana  Savelli.  Do  you  mind  telling 
me  if  it  is  true  ? '  added  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  c  Believe 
me,  I  do  not  ask  you  the  question  out  of  mere  curiosity/ 

Vane  glanced  at  him  for  a  moment. 

'  It  is  perfectly  true  that  I  want  to  marry  Donna  Diana 


DONNA   DIANA  183 

Savelli/  he  replied,  after  a  pause ;  '  but  it  is  also  true  that 
she  does  not  want  to  marry  me/ 

'How  do  you  know?'  returned  Monsieur  de  Villebois 
abruptly.  '  Have  you  asked  her  ?  ' 

6  Yes/  answered  Edmund  simply. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  gave  a  quiet  laugh. 

'Do  you  mean  to  tell  me/  he  said,  'that  you  actually 
managed  to  propose  to  her  under  the  noses  of  Princess  San 
Eocco  and  those  two  Gorgons  of  daughters  ?  But  it  is  in- 
credible. Nobody  but  an  Englishman  would  have  dreamed 
of  attempting  such  a  thing/ 

6  It  was  not  exactly  done  under  Princess  San  Rocco's 
nose/  said  Edmund,  smiling.  'I  had  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  Donna  Diana  alone,  and — well,  she  refused  me/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  sniffed  impatiently. 

f  I  suppose  she  repeated  her  lesson  to  you  ? '  he  said. 

'Her  lesson?' 

'  But,  of  course !    What  does  she  know  of  love  ? ' 

'  That  is  exactly  what  she  said/  replied  Vane  dryly. 

'No  doubt;  they  always  say  it.  But — pardon  me  if  I 
am  indiscreet — did  you  not  give  her  a  little  elementary 
instruction  ? ' 

Edmund  shook  his  head. 

'  I  tried  to  make  her  understand/  he  replied ;  '  but  what 
can  one  say  to  a  young  girl  with  such  ideals  in  her  mind  ? 
One's  tongue  is  tied.  Even  to  speak  to  her  of  love  seemed 
like  committing  a  sacrilege/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  glanced  at  him.  Surprise  mingled 
with  something  like  admiration  were  expressed  in  his  look. 

'  I  understand  your  delicacy  of  feeling/  he  said.  '  I  fear 
that  many  young  men  would  not  have  been  so  scrupulous ; 
but  I  think  you  English  respect  certain  things  more  than 
we  of  the  Latin  races,  and  you  are  chivalrous  to  women — 
very  chivalrous.  Then,  I  am  right  in  doubting  the  accu- 
racy of  Countess  Verini's  statement  to  the  effect  that 
Donna  Diana  Savelli  had  been  alarmed  by  your  protesta- 
tions, and  had  complained  to  her  aunt  of  your  conduct  to- 
wards her  ? ' 


184  DONNA    DIANA 

<  I  feel  quite  sure  that  Donna  Diana  was  neither  alarmed 
nor  offended  by  anything  I  said  to  her/  replied  Vane 
quietly,  '  and  I  should  think  it  highly  improbable  that  she 
ever  mentioned  our  interview/ 

'  It  was  unknown  to  any  third  person,  then  ? '  asked 
Monsieur  de  Villebois. 

'  Lino  was  with  me.  He  left  us  alone  for  a  few  minutes, 
after  having  warned  his  cousin  of  what  I  wished  to  say  to 
her/ 

'  Ah !  Lino  was  your  abettor,  and  nobody  else  ? ' 

'  Donna  Diana's  maid  was  with  her,  an  old  servant  de- 
voted to  her  and  to  Lino.  I  am  sure,  from  what  Lino  has 
told  me,  that  she  is  to  be  trusted/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  considered  for  a  moment. 

( It  is  strange/  he  said  presently.  '  Countess  Verini  is 
not  likely  to  get  her  information  from  anybody  but  Marco 
Savelli.  She  is  not  one  of  the  Princess  San  Eocco's  very 
limited  world,  and  I  should  doubt  her  having  anything  but 
the  barest  acquaintance  with  other  members  of  the  family 
save  Marco.  With  the  latter,  indeed,  her  acquaintance  can 
scarcely  be  called  bare/ 

Vane  began  to  laugh. 

(  Well/  he  said  dryly,  '  I  don't  know,  De  Villebois/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  chuckled  appreciatively. 

'  You  are  malicious,  my  dear  friend/  he  observed.  '  I 
did  not  intend  any  jeu  de  mots.  It  would  be  interesting  to 
know  Marco  Savelli's  motive  for  inventing  these  stories,  for 
I  feel  sure  that  we  may  assume  them  to  have  originated 
with  him/ 

( I  do  not  know  why  he  should  dislike  me/  said  Edmund ; 
(  but  he  certainly  does  so.  I  conclude  it  is  simply  because  I 
am  a  friend  of  his  brother.  I  should  not  have  thought  it 
could  matter  to  him  whether  his  cousin  Donna  Diana  be- 
comes a  nun  or  marries  me/ 

( It  would  not  matter  to  him/  replied  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois, 'were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  Donna  Diana  Savelli 
has  a  considerable  fortune/ 

'  I  should  not  want  her  fortune/  returned  Vane, '  whereas 


DONNA   DIANA  185 

the  convent  she  enters  will  want  it.  I  do  not  see  how  Marco 
Savelli  benefits  by  opposing  me.' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  smiled. 

6  There  are  always  arrangements  to  be  made  with  le  bon 
Dieu'  he  said,  '  and  there  are  sometimes  arrangements  to 
be  made  with  His  servants/ 

'  What  do  you  mean  ? '  asked  Edmund. 

( Merely  that  those  who  have  the  management  of  Donna 
Diana's  affairs  probably  prefer  dealing  with  a  spiritual 
spouse  to  dealing  with  so  material  a  bridegroom  as 
yourself.  Do  you  remember  telling  me  some  months 
ago  that  Cardinal  Savelli  was  his  niece's  guardian  and 
trustee  ? ' 

'  Perfectly/  answered  Edmund.  '  You  said  that  it  was 
an  interesting  piece  of  news  to  you.' 

'  So  it  was — a  very  interesting  piece  of  news/  said  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois.  '  It  afforded  me  a  clue  to  many  things 
that  had  puzzled  me.  One  of  those  things  was  the  equa- 
nimity with  which  Donna  Diana  Savelli's  determination  to 
abjure  the  world  has  been  viewed  by  her  relations.  Her 
beauty,  her  fortune,  and  her  name  might  surely  have  made 
a  good  marriage  almost  a  certainty  for  her.  I  could  never 
understand  why  her  religious  mania — for  I  consider  re- 
ligion to  be  a  mania  when  it  interferes  with  the  legitimate 
development  of  human  nature — should  have  been  encour- 
aged.' 

'  And  can  you  understand  now  ?  '  asked  Vane.  e  I  con- 
fess/ he  added,  '  that  I  am  always  unable  to  do  so.' 

6  Yes/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois  slowly,  '  I  think  I 
am  able  to  understand  now.  I  suspect  that  if  Donna  Diana 
had  been  portionless  we  should  have  heard  very  little  of  her 
religious  vocation,  and  a  great  deal  more  of  her  beauty  and 
her  charm.' 

'  You  think  the  Church  wants  to  get  hold  of  her  money  ? ' 
said  Edmund. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

tf  The  Church  has  got  hold  of  it/  he  replied. 

'  But  it  is  in  trust  until  she  is  of  age/  returned  Edmund. 


186  DONNA   DIANA 

6  You  surely  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  Cardinal  Savelli 
has  tampered  with  her  fortune  ? '  he  added. 

'  I  have  no  right  to  imply  anything  of  the  kind/  answered 
Monsieur  de  Villebois, '  but  I  have  heard  reports  lately  con- 
cerning His  Eminence  Savelli  that  make  me  suspicious.  1 
have  lived  in  Eome  many  years,  my  dear  Vane,  and  I  have 
known  of  some  very  strange  things  being  done  for  the  sake 
of  money  in  this  Holy  City,  and  not  a  few  of  them  have 
been  done  by  individuals  vowed  to  poverty.' 

'  But  Cardinal  Savelli  is  not  vowed  to  poverty/  objected 
Vane. 

'  Certainly  not — neither  to  poverty  nor  to  chastity,  but 
only  to  celibacy/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  As  I  said 
before,  there  are  always  des  accommodements  avec  le  del. 
I  do  not  mean  to  suggest  that  Cardinal  Savelli  has  used  his 
niece's  money  for  private  purposes,  but  he  is,  after  all,  an 
ecclesiastic.  In  these  days  the  religious  congregations  are 
many  times  richer  and  more  powerful  in  Rome  than  they 
were  under  the  temporal  sovereignty  of  the  popes,  notwith- 
standing the  persecutions  which  Leo  XIII.  is  obliged  to 
deplore  at  stated  intervals  with  his  tongue  in  his  cheek. 
Cardinal  Savelli,  you  must  know,  is  not  too  well  looked 
upon  by  some  of  the  more  influential  French  communities 
— but  that  is  neither  here  nor  there.' 

( I  do  not  see  why  it  should  signify  to  him  whether  Donna 
Diana  enters  a  religious  community  or  not/  said  Edmund. 

'In  Rome/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'it  is  never 
of  any  use  to  look  at  things  on  the  surface.  The  under- 
currents should  be  studied.  In  this  case  reports  have  been 
spread  about  you  and  Donna  Diana  Savelli.  Lino  Savelli 
and  yourself  are  alleged  to  have  entered  into  an  arrange- 
ment which,  did  it  exist,  would  certainly  not  be  very  credit- 
able to  either  of  you.  I  can  assure  you  that  these  stories 
originate  with  Countess  Verini.  I  have  heard  them  from 
several  people,  each  of  whom  has  heard  them  in  her  house. 
The  coincidence  interested  me,  for  I  have  always  noticed 
that  Countess  Verini  is  one  of  the  few  who  know  how  to 
live  in  a  glass  house  comfortably  and  without  fear  of  being 


DONNA   DIANA  187 

disturbed.  I  paid  her  a  visit  one  evening  and  told  her  the 
stories — in  strict  confidence,  of  course.  It  is  a  plan  which 
seldom  fails,  that  of  confiding  a  story  to  the  person  with 
whom  you  have  reason  to  suspect  it  originates.' 

'  And  what  did  Countess  Verini  say  ? '  asked  Vane. 

'  Quite  enough  to  show  me  that  my  suspicions  were  cor- 
rect/ answered  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  For  some  reason/ 
he  continued,  '  it  is  fairly  certain  that  Marco  Savelli  has 
told  her  to  circulate  these  reports/ 

'  But  for  what  reason  ? ' 

'  That/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois, '  remains  to  be  dis- 
covered. You  must  remember  that  Cardinal  Savelli  keeps 
Marco,  and  that  Marco ' 

'  Exactly/  interrupted  Edmund. 

"'You  can  never  tell  what  influences  may  be  at  work/ 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  proceeded.  '  One  thing  is  very 
clear,  namely,  that  it  is  not  intended  Donna  Diana  should 
marry.  Your  appearance  on  the  scene  has  frightened  Marco 
Savelli,  and  possibly  the  Cardinal  also.  You  tell  me  that 
the  girl  has  refused  you,  but,  all  the  same,  she  will  think 
of  what  she  has  learned  from  you.  Oh  yes,  she  will  think 
of  it,  my  friend,  for  she  is  a  woman/ 

'  I  wish  I  could  believe  that/  said  Vane. 

'  You  may  be  certain  of  it/  returned  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois. '  Very  likely  you  will  not  have  succeeded  in  arous- 
ing her  love,  but  you  will  have  aroused  her  curiosity.  It  is 
the  first  step.  It  was  so  with  Eve,  was  it  not?  That  is 
why  they  are  all  afraid  of  you/ 

'  There  is  not  much  to  be  afraid  of/  said  Edmund.  '  I 
am  powerless.  I  dare  say  I  shall  never  see  Donna  Diana 
again ;  and  she  will  be  told  that  I  am  after  her  money,  no 
doubt,  if  she  is  suspected  of  thinking  about  me  at  all.  But 
I  do  not  suppose  that  my  name  will  ever  be  mentioned  to 
her/  he  added,  after  a  pause.  '  Nobody  is  likely  to  know  of 
our  having  met  elsewhere  than  in  Palazzo  San  Eocco/ 

'We  will  hope  not/  remarked  Monsieur  de  Villebois 
gravely.  c  In  the  meantime/  he  continued,  '  take  my  ad- 
vice and  ignore  these  stories.  Above  all,  do  not  tell  your 


188  DONNA  DIANA 

friend  Lino  of  them.  He  would  fly  in  a  rage,  and  then 
there  is  no  knowing  what  might  happen.' 

* "  Chi  va  piano,  va  sano."  To  quote  such  a  copy-book 
proverb  is  almost  as  bad  as  uttering  a  platitude;  but,  all 
the  same,  it  is  an  excellent  maxim,  especially  here  in 
Rome/ 

'  I  am  likely  to  go  very  piano,  for  lack  of  opportunity  to 
do  otherwise/  said  Vane,  a  little  bitterly. 

(  The  opportunity  may  come/  replied  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois.  '  Perhaps  Donna  Diana  will  reconsider  her  determi- 
nation. When  Lino  returns,  he  should  be  able  to  help  your 
cause,  even  if  only  indirectly.  Perhaps  I,  too,  may  be  able 
to  discover  some  clue  to  Marco  Savelli's  motives  for  seeking 
to  prejudice  people  against  his  brother  and  you.  I  am  con- 
vinced that,  whatever  part  the  Cardinal  may  be  playing,  he 
is  largely  influenced  by  Marco,  and  that  money  is  at  the 
bottom  of  it  all/ 

At  this  moment  the  distant  sound  of  a  bell  ringing  at 
the  gates  of  the  Palatine  warned  them  that  the  latter  was 
about  to  be  closed  to  the  public,  and  they  hastened  down 
the  hill  towards  the  entrance,  turning  every  now  and  then 
to  look  at  the  evening  lights  falling  on  the  ruins  of  the 
Imperial  palace.  The  nightingales  were  answering  each 
other  in  the  gardens  around  them,  and  already  the  bats 
were  beginning  to  flutter  out  from  the  crannies  of  the 
masonry,  while  every  now  and  then  the  melancholy  notes 
of  the  little  owls  that  haunt  the  Palatine  and  the  Colos- 
seum fell  upon  their  ears.  From  the  city  below  rose  the 
confused  clangour  of  church-bells  ringing  the  Ave  Maria. 
The  red  glow  on  the  ruins  gradually  faded  away,  to  be  re- 
placed by  a  ghostly  gray,  and  the  cypresses  stood  out  against 
the  darkening  sky  like  sombre  mourners  watching  over  the 
grave  of  a  mighty  past. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  and  Edmund  Vane  passed  out  of 
the  iron  gates  and  turned  towards  the  Capitol,  pausing  for 
a  moment  to  look  down  on  the  Forum.  As  they  leaned 
against  the  parapet,  a  man  who  had  been  standing  a  few 
paces  off  moved  up  nearer  to  them.  Vane  looked  at  him, 


DONNA  DIANA  189 

and  then  turned  away  with  a  little  exclamation  of  im- 
patience. 

'  What  is  the  matter  ? '  asked  Monsieur  de  Villebois, 
who  overheard  it. 

'  Oh,  nothing/  said  Edmund  carelessly,  as  they  walked 
away  together,  '  only  that  fellow  who  came  towards  us 
annoys  me.  I  am  always  running  up  against  him,  and  he 
stares  at  one  rather  unpleasantly.  Some  guide,  I  suppose, 
who  wants  employment/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  turned  round  sharply,  but  the  man 
had  disappeared  from  the  spot  where  he  had  been  standing. 

'  How  often  have  you  noticed  him  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  At  least  four  or  five  times  during  the  last  few  days,' 
replied  Vane.  ( I  conclude  that  we  take  our  walks  in  the 
same  direction,  but  it  is  an  odd  coincidence/ 

( Very  odd/  said  his  companion  thoughtfully.  '  You  do 
not  wander  in  out-of-the-way  places  by  yourself,  I  sup- 
pose ? '  he  added. 

( I  wander  where  the  spirit  moves  me/  answered  Vane, 
laughing. 

'  Then/  observed  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  ( if  I  were  you, 
I  should  carry  a  revolver/ 

Edmund  Vane  looked  at  him  with  astonishment. 

( A  revolver ! '  he  repeated.  '  Why  should  I  carry  a  re- 
volver ?  I  have  never  had  the  least  annoyance  in  Rome.  I 
should  say  the  town  was  as  safe  as  London — indeed,  much 
safer.  It  is  far  better  lighted,  to  begin  with/ 

( It  is  quite  safe  for  ordinary  people,  certainly/ 

'  And  am  I  not  an  ordinary  person  ?  ' 

( It  is  safe  for  those  who  go  about  their  own  business, 
provided  that  business  does  not  clash  with  other  people's 
interests/  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois  quietly. 

'  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  think  that  fellow  is  watching 
me  ? '  exclaimed  Edmund. 

'We  are  in  Borne/  replied  the  other,  'and  mediaeval 
customs  have  not  quite  died  out.  That  is  one  of  the  charms 
of  the  place.  I  do  not  suppose  the  fellow  would  interfere 
with  you,  but  he  may  be  employed  to  watch  your  move- 


190  DONNA   DIANA 

merits.  In  any  case,  I  recommend  a  revolver.  You  are  not 
obliged  to  use  it,  but  the  sight  of  one  has  a  very  salutary 
effect  sometimes/ 

Edmund  laughed  again. 

'  It  is  probably  a  mere  coincidence/  he  observed.  e  I  sup- 
pose/ he  added,  ( that  in  former  times  I  should  have  gone 
about  in  fear  for  my  life  from  bravos  hired  by  Marco  Sa- 
velli.  But,  as  you  say,  in  modern  Eome  people's  characters 
are  taken  away  when  they  make  themselves  obnoxious,  not 
their  lives/ 

'  There  have  been  instances  of  both  being  taken  at  the 
same  time/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois  dryly,  'even  in 
modern  Rome/ 

The  two  walked  on  together  till  they  reached  the  Piazza 
d'Ara  Cceli,  and  there  Monsieur  de  Villebois  bade  Ed- 
mund good-night.  The  latter  continued  his  way  and 
crossed  the  Corso  Vittorio  Emanuele,  turning  down  one 
of  the  side-streets  leading  in  the  direction  of  the  Piazza  San 
Luigi  dei  Francesi,  where  he  wished  to  leave  a  card.  His 
errand  accomplished,  he  walked  through  some  of  the  vicoli 
towards  the  Piazza  Colonna,  and,  somewhat  to  his  surprise, 
suddenly  found  himself  opposite  to  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco, 
having  followed  a  narrow  street  that  he  imagined  would 
prove  to  be  a  short-cut.  The  porter  was  standing  at  the 
entrance  to  the  palace,  and  Edmund  felt  inclined  to  cross 
the  little  piazza  to  ask  him  if  he  had  recovered  from  his 
lumbago.  Prudence,  however,  decided  him  to  continue  on 
his  way,  and  though  old  Antonio  looked  across  at  him,  he 
apparently  did  not  recognise  Vane. 

Edmund  had  walked  some  yards,  when  he  heard  steps 
following  him,  and  presently  a  low  Pss-t!  arrested  his 
attention.  Turning  round,  he  saw  Antonio  hurrying  after 
him. 

'I  saw  your  Excellency  passing/  the  old  man  said 
quickly.  '  Perhaps  you  will  see  Don  Michelangelo  to- 
night?' 

'  Don  Michelangelo  is  not  in  Rome/  said  Edmund ;  <  he 
has  gone  to  Turin  for  a  few  weeks.  Are  they  all  well  in 


DONNA   DIANA  191 

Casa  San  Eocco?  I  am  glad  to  see  you  about  again/  he 
added. 

The  old  porter  looked  round  him  suspiciously,  as  though 
to  make  sure  that  he  was  not  observed. 

'  I  wanted  your  Excellency  to  give  this  to  Don  Michel- 
angelo/ he  said,  holding  a  note  out  to  Edmund ;  '  but  if  he 

is  out  of  Eome '  and  he  stopped  and  rubbed  his  head 

doubtfully. 

f  He  is  certainly  out  of  Rome,  but  I  can  send  it  to  him/ 
said  Vane.  '  Are  they  all  well  in  casa  ?  '  he  repeated. 

'  The  note,  Eccellenza/  said  Antonio  hurriedly — '  if  your 
Excellency  will  read  it  you  will  know,  and  you  will  tell 
Don  Michelangelo — but  you  will  not  tell  anybody  else  that 
I  gave  it  to  you  ? '  And,  without  waiting  for  Vane's  reply, 
he  thrust  the  paper  into  the  latter's  hand  and  walked  away 
as  fast  as  age  and  infirmity  would  allow. 

Edmund  also  walked  on  before  opening  the  missive.  His 
eyes  had  no  sooner  fallen  on  the  contents  than  he  stopped 
short  with  an  exclamation  of  dismay.  The  note  bore  no 
signature,  and  was  evidently  written  by  a  servant,  but  it 
informed  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  that  his  cousin  Donna 
Diana  was  ill  with  typhoid  fever. 

For  a  moment  Edmund  hesitated  as  to  whether  he  would 
not  retrace  his  steps  and  question  the  porter.  Antonio's 
dread  of  being  seen  speaking  to  him,  however,  had  been  so 
evident  that  Vane  decided  not  to  do  so.  The  first  thing  to 
be  done  was  to  communicate  with  Lino,  and  Edmund 
walked  hastily  on,  resolved  to  telegraph  to  him  from  the 
nearest  office.  The  sound  of  wheels  behind  him  caused 
him  to  turn  round  suddenly,  thinking  that  if  it  proved  to 
be  an  empty  cab  he  would  jump  into  it  and  drive  direct  to 
the  central  telegraph  office  at  San  Silvestro.  The  cab  was 
unoccupied,  and  as  he  stopped  the  driver  he  saw  a  few 
yards  away  from  him  the  individual  whose  frequent  appear- 
ance he  had  been  inclined  to  attribute  to  chance. 

That  the  man  had  been  following  him  Vane  had  now  no 
doubt,  and  he  must  have  seen  Antonio  hurry  after  him  and 
give  him  the  note.  The  certainty  that  he  was  being  ( shad- 


192  DONNA   DIANA 

owed'  was  distinctly  an  unpleasant  feeling,  and  Edmund 
was  conscious  of  a  slight  shiver  as  he  recollected  Monsieur 
de  Villebois'  warning.  The  man,  whoever  he  might  be, 
had  as  good  a  right  to  be  walking  in  that  particular  street 
as  Edmund  himself,  and  had  done  nothing  to  justify  any 
remonstrance  on  his  part.  Affecting  not  to  have  observed 
him,  Edmund  jumped  into  the  cab  and  directed  the  coach- 
man in  a  loud  voice  to  drive  to  the  Piazza  di  Spagna.  It 
was  only  when  he  had  gone  some  distance  that  he  changed 
the  direction  for  that  of  San  Silvestro. 

The  fact  that  he  was  being  watched,  however,  was  of  very 
secondary  importance,  and  the  tidings  of  Diana's  illness 
drove  all  other  thoughts  from  his  mind.  He  felt  tolerably 
certain  that  the  note  had  been  written  by  Ersilia,  and  that 
she  had  confided  it  to  Antonio  to  convey  to  Lino  Savelli 
as  quickly  as  possible.  Vane  read  it  again,  and  saw  that  it 
bore  the  date  of  the  day  before.  This,  at  least,  was  some 
consolation,  for  it  enabled  him  to  hope  that  Diana  had  not 
been  lying  ill  many  days.  He  remembered  her  sudden  at- 
tack of  faintness  in  the  Castelnuovo  Gardens,  and  how  she 
had  complained  of  the  pain  in  her  head.  The  fever  had 
evidently  been  coming  on  then,  and  might  not  actually  have 
declared  itself  until  some  days  later.  But  Edmund  was 
haunted  by  the  sense  of  some  mystery,  some  evil  hanging 
over  both  Diana  and  himself,  that  he  could  not  clearly  dis- 
tinguish. 

He  thought  of  De  Villebois'  hints  of  intrigues  being  car- 
ried on  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  power  over  Diana's 
fortune.  Somewhat  of  a  cynic  and  distrustful  of  things 
Koman  the  French  ex-diplomat  might  be,  and  Vane  made 
full  allowance  for  his  prejudices  as  a  foreigner  and  a 
Frenchman.  He  had  frequently  heard  his  own  compa- 
triots misjudge  the  Italians,  and  had  marvelled  at  their 
stupidity  in  venturing  sweepingly  to  condemn  a  race  of 
whose  very  language  they  were  usually  ignorant,  and  whose 
innate  refinement  was  by  no  means  always  appreciable  to 
their  Anglo-Saxon  nature. 

But  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that  De  Villebois  at  least 


DONNA   DIANA  193 

Had  experience  and  some  right  to  express  his  opinions.  The 
latter  not  only  knew  the  Italian  language  well,  but  his  of- 
ficial position  during  long  years  of  residence  in  Rome  had 
brought  him  into  contact  with  all  classes  of  the  community. 
Edmund  Vane  despatched  his  telegram  to  Lino,  briefly 
acquainting  him  with  the  fact  of  Diana's  illness,  and  tell- 
ing him  that  he  was  writing  to  him  by  that  evening's  post. 
Having  done  this,  he  drove  on  to  his  apartment.  He  would, 
he  thought,  try  to  find  Monsieur  de  Villebois  at  home  after 
dinner,  and  consult  him  as  to  the  latest  development  of 
affairs,  in  which  that  elderly  man  of  the  world  had  shown 
himself  disposed  to  take  so  kindly  an  interest. 


CHAPTEE   XVI 

FRAU  VON  RABEN  had  been  praying  in  the  Church  of  San 
Luigi  dei  Francesi.  She  did  not  attend  that  place  of 
worship  out  of  affection  for  the  French,  but  because  it 
happened  to  be  situated  conveniently  near  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,,  and -the  church 
was  almost  deserted.  A  few  women  were  kneeling  before 
the  various  altars,  and  one  or  two  old  men  were  dozing 
upon  their  chairs,  waking  up  every  now  and  then  with  a 
start  to  cross  themselves. 

Her  devotions  concluded,  Frau  von  Raben  rose,  and 
went  to  an  iron  stand  on  which  candles  were  burning  in 
front  of  a  statue  of  Notre  Dame  de  Lourdes.  In  a  long 
box  divided  into  three  partitions  were  candles  varying  in 
size  according  to  their  price.  Frau  von  Raben  looked  at 
them  and  hesitated.  Finally  she  chose  one  from  among 
those  of  medium  length,  and,  after  dropping  her  fifty 
centimes  into  the  tronc,  lighted  it  and  fixed  it  in  a  vacant 
socket.  She  felt  a  little  thrill  of  self-complacency  as  she 
did  so..  Instincts  due  to  both  sex  and  race  had  prompted 
the  selection  of  the  cheapest  size  of  votive  candle,  but  un- 
willingness to  risk  the  efficacy  of  her  prayer  for  the  sake 
of  saving  twenty-five  centimes  triumphed. 

The  fact  was  that  Frau  von  Raben's  prayers  had  not 
been  conceived  in  a  purely  altruistic  spirit;  hence  the 
dilemma  that  had  arisen  regarding  the  choice  of  candles. 
Like  the  latter,  her  needs  were  of  a  composite  nature. 
She  had  prayed  that  Diana  Savelli  might  be  brought 
safely  through  the  dangerous  illness  from  which  she  was 
suffering,  and  that  the  fever  in  which  the  girl  was  lying 
helpless  and  half  delirious  might  leave  her. 

But  Frau  von  Raben  had  also  prayed  that  Diana  should 

194 


DONNA   DIANA  195 

not  lose  her  vocation,  and  that  nothing  should  be  per- 
mitted to  interfere  with  her  entering  into  religion. 

She  had  never  really  liked  Diana,  and  during  the  few 
weeks  that  the  latter  had  been  under  her  charge  in  the 
Palazzo  San  Rocco  she  had  liked  her  less  than  ever. 

Frau  von  Raben  prided  herself  upon  her  influence  over 
young  people,  and  upon  her  capacity  for  reading  their 
characters. 

She  had  soon  become  aware,  however,  that  Diana  was 
not  disposed  to  be  susceptible  to  this  influence,  and  the 
discovery  had  annoyed  her  considerably.  There  is  little 
doubt  that,  had  her  prayers  been  offered  solely  for  Diana's 
recovery,  Frau  von  Raben  would  have  contented  herself 
with  a  candle  priced  at  twenty-five  centimes,  and  would 
have  taken  the  risks  entailed  by  the  shorter  period  it 
occupied  in  burning.  She  did  not  wish  Diana  to  die, 
certainly,  since  to  do  so  would  have  been  distinctly  un- 
christian. 

Moreover,  she  had  no  very  sure  idea  as  to  what  would 
become  of  Diana's  money  should  she  succumb  to  her  illness. 

Frau  von  Raben  had  quite  persuaded  herself  that  it 
was  her  duty  both  towards  Diana  Savelli,  and  towards 
the  Church  to  which  she  was  so  zealous  a  convert,  to  do 
all  in  her  power  to  encourage  the  former  in  her  deter- 
mination to  take  the  veil.  She  had  persuaded  herself, 
also,  that  Marco  Savelli's  evident  anxiety  lest  his  cousin 
should  change  her  mind  proceeded  from  a  laudable  desire 
that  no  worldly  considerations  should  triumph  over  a 
religious  vocation. 

In  the  course  of  their  conversations  together  concern- 
ing the  state  of  Diana's  mind,  and  the  spiritual  dangers 
to  which  she  was  being  exposed  from  Edmund  Vane's  un- 
concealed admiration,  Frau  von  Raben  had  not  failed  to 
gather  from  Marco  that  she  would  be  laying  both  Cardinal 
Savelli  and  himself  under  a  deep  debt  of  obligation  to  her 
should  she  succeed  in  counteracting  any  influence  that 
either  his  brother  or  his  brother's  friend  might  have  gained 
over  Diana.  Marco,  indeed,  had  hinted  at  some  tangible 


196  DONNA   DIANA 

recognition  of  this  obligation — something  of  more  present 
utility  than  being  remembered  by  the  Cardinal  at  his 
daily  Mass,  though  the  latter  privilege  had  also  been  as- 
sured to  her. 

Marco  Savelli  had  speedily  discovered  the  keen  interest 
taken  by  the  elderly  German  lady  in  those  simple  matters 
of  e very-day  life  that  are  now  dignified  by  the  name  of 
sexual  problems.  His  experience  and  training  had  been 
such  as  to  cause  him  to  feel  no  surprise  that  so  pious  a 
person  as  Frau  von  Eaben  should  possess  this  interest. 
Having  unravelled  most  of  these  problems,  at  first  theo- 
retically in  the  lecture-rooms  of  his  seminary,  and  after- 
wards more  practically  elsewhere,  with  greater  or  less  satis- 
faction to  himself,  he  was  able  partly  to  assuage  Frau  von 
Raben's  thirst  for  knowledge  as  to  how  best  to  deal  with 
them.  The  two  had  discussed  these  questions  in  so  far 
as  they  affected  t)iana  with  much  of  that  freedom  which 
has  invariably  been  conceded  to  the  religious  investigator. 
The  result  had  been  a  conviction  on  Frau  von  Raben's 
part  that  she  had  a  mission,  which  mission  was  to  consist 
in  protecting  from  violation  a  sanctuary  specially  chosen 
by  Almighty  God  for  His  own.  That  this  sanctuary  hap- 
pened to  be  nothing  more  nor  less  than  Diana's  body  was 
a  detail  which,  to  be  fair  upon  them,  neither  Frau  von 
Raben  nor  Marco  Savelli  suffered  to  enter  into  their  argu- 
ment. They  preferred  to  call  it  her  soul;  for  Frau  von 
Raben,  like  many  of  her  race,  was  metaphysical,  and  Marco 
had  to  recollect  that  he  was  not  conversing  with  a  theo- 
logical student. 

For  some  little  time  Frau  von  Raben,  her  senses  being 
keenly  alert  to  detect  any  signs  of  incipient  problems,  had 
thought  that  she  had  perceived  in  Diana  symptoms  which 
aroused  her  suspicions.  It  had  not  escaped  her  that  the 
girl  betrayed  a  certain  unwillingness  to  talk  about  her 
vocation  for  religion  which  gave  place  to  a  marked  im- 
patience when  the  subject  was  insisted  upon.  Only  a  few 
months  previously,  Diana  had  been  wont  to  become  en- 
thusiastic on  the  advantages  and  joys  of  the  life  to  which 


DONNA   DIANA  197 

she  proposed  to  devote  herself — so  much  so,  indeed,  that 
Frau  von  Eaben  sometimes  found  herself  regretting  that 
the  Princess  San  Rocco's  daughters  had  not  some  of  the 
beauty  which  had  been  lavished  upon  their  cousin.  She 
did  not,  indeed,  venture  to  confess  even  to  herself  that 
she  thought  Donna  Maria  or  Donna  Giulia  Petrucci  would 
have  made  a  better  use  of  it;  but,  all  the  same,  when 
she  looked  at  Diana,  the  latters  beauty  certainly  did  seem 
to  be  a  little  superfluous  under  the  circumstances,  and 
Frau  von  Eaben  would  smother  a  sigh  born  of  a  sentimen- 
tality partly  pious,  but  also  partly  profane. 

A  few  days  before  her  illness  had  finally  declared  itself 
in  the  form  of  typhoid,  Diana  Savelli  had  displayed  an 
irritability  at  the  mention  of  her  approaching  departure 
for  the  convent  in  which  she  was  to  pass  her  novitiate  that 
had  surprised  and  startled  not  only  Frau  von  Raben,  but 
also  Princess  San  Rocco.  The  latter  had  expostulated 
with  her  niece,  and  recommended  a  visit  to  Father  Ghe- 
rardi  in  his  confessional  at  the  Church  of  the  Gesu,  a 
Jesuit  Father  who  had  been  for  many  years  the  spiritual 
adviser  to  the  San  Rocco  family.  Frau  von  Raben  had 
abstained  from  open  reproof,  but  had  emitted  sighs  at 
intervals,  accompanied  by  mysterious  allusions  to  the  weak- 
ness of  the  flesh.  It  was  certainly  not  without  premedi- 
tation that  she  repeatedly  dragged  up  the  name  of  Edmund 
Vane,  and  encouraged  Donna  Maria  and  Donna  Giulia  to 
abuse  the  English  generally  and  Vane  in  particular. 

The  manoeuvre  had  succeeded  only  too  well.  Diana, 
already  feverish  and  really  ill,  completely  lost  control  over 
herself,  and  turned  upon  Frau  von  Raben  and  her  cousins 
in  a  whirlwind  of  indignation,  upbraiding  the  latter  for 
their  ingratitude  towards  the  man  who  had  saved  the  life 
of  a  member  of  their  family.  Winged  words  passed, 
and  matters  reached  a  climax  when  Donna  Giulia  sneer- 
ingly  observed  that,  after  all,  it  was  very  natural  that 
Diana  should  defend  her  admirer.  Diana,  white  and 
trembling  with  rage,  laughed  in  her  cousin's  face. 

'  You  are  jealous,'  she  exclaimed — '  jealous !      If  Mr. 


198  DONNA   DIANA 

Vane  had  ever  taken  the  trouble  to  notice  you,  you  would 
have  declared  that  the  English  were  perfect ! '  And  then 
she  had  burst  into  a  hysterical  fit  of  crying. 

It  was  not  a  very  dignified  scene,  and  Frau  von  Kaben 
led  Diana  away  to  her  room.  That  evening  the  girl  grew 
rapidly  worse,  and  it  soon  became  evident  that  she  was  in 
a  high  fever.  The  doctor  who  attended  Casa  San  Eocco 
was  sent  for,  and  shook  his  head  when  he  examined  her. 
She  was  certainly  going  to  have  an  illness,  he  declared, 
but  until  another  twenty-four  hours  had  elapsed  he  could 
not  determine  what  that  illness  might  be. 

In  the  meantime,  Frau  von  Eaben  congratulated  her- 
self upon  her  perspicacity.  She  had  proved  to  her  com- 
plete satisfaction  the  connection  she  had  suspected  to  exist 
between  Diana's  sudden  loss  of  enthusiasm  for  her  reli- 
gious vocation  and  her  defence  of  this  Englishman  whose 
name  she  had  embraced  with  so  much  fervour. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  Frau  von  Eaben  thor- 
oughly enjoyed  the  situation.  She  felt  that  she  was  about 
to  take  part  in  a  spiritual  contest  in  which  there  was  a 
sufficient  amount  of  material  element  to  make  it  inter- 
esting. The  girl's  nature  was  asserting  itself,  and  every 
good  Christian  knew  that  nature  must,  or  should  be, 
crushed.  That  Diana's  interest  in  her  cousin  Lino  Sa- 
velli's  friend  was  anything  more  than  a  passing  fancy  on 
her  part  for  the  man  who  so  evidently  admired  her,  Frau 
von  Eaben  had  no  cause  to  suspect.  She  could  not, 
indeed,  have  been  inspired  to  know  how  a  spiritual  enemy 
had  utilized  so  very  material  a  weapon  as  a  chill  upon  her 
own  stomach  in  order  to  carry  on  the  warfare.  It  was 
clear  to  her  that  Diana's  mind  was  being  influenced  by 
carnal  desires,  and  that  Diana  had  yet  to  learn  how  these 
jould  be  satisfied  by  other  than  purely  carnal  means. 

Frau  von  Eaben  lost  no  time  in  informing  Don  Marco 
Savelli  of  her  conviction  that  his  brother's  friend  had  made 
a  greater  impression  upon  Diana  than  she  had  hitherto 
believed  to  be  the  case.  In  her  note  describing  the  scene 
which  had  taken  place  between  Diana  and  her  cousins 


DONNA   DIANA  199 

she  likewise  acquainted  him  with  the  fact  of  the  girl's 
illness,  which  on  the  following  day  the  doctor  formally 
pronounced  to  be  typhoid  fever. 

Her  letter  brought  an  urgent  request  from  Marco  Sa- 
velli  that  she  would  come  to  the  Via  Giulia,  where  he 
would  be  sure  to  be  able  to  speak  with  her  alone,  if  she 
would  time  her  visit  so  as  to  arrive  while  the  Cardinal 
was  taking  his  usual  drive. 

Frau  von  Eaben  was  only  too  ready  to  discuss  the  latest 
developments  of  Diana's  'case/  as  she  called  it,  and  the 
following  afternoon  found  her  at  Cardinal  Savelli's  house. 
The  Cardinal's  carriage,  with  the  black  Hungarian  horses, 
unsold  as  yet,  was  standing  in  the  porte  cochere  when  she 
reached  his  residence.  Mindful  of  Marco's  hint,  she 
walked  up  and  down  the  street  until  she  saw  it  drive 
away,  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  its  occupant  as  it  passed 
her.  Then  she  entered  the  house,  and  rang  at  the  door 
of  the  Cardinal's  apartment. 

In  reply  to  her  question  as  to  whether  the  Cardinal  was 
at  home,  and  whether  he  would  receive  her,  the  servant 
informed  her  that  His  Eminence  had  gone  out  only  a 
few  minutes  since. 

Frau  von  Eaben  expressed  surprise  and  disappointment. 

( Perhaps  Don  Marco  is  at  home  ? '  she  asked.  '  My 
business  was  with  His  Eminence,'  she  continued,  'but  no 
doubt  Don  Marco  will  see  me  if  you  will  tell  him  that 
I  am  here.' 

She  followed  the  man  into  the  reception-room,  and  sat 
down  while  he  went  to  acquaint  Marco  Savelli  of  her 
arrival. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  latter  joined  her. 

6  My  uncle  will  not  be  back  for  two  hours/  he  said,  '  so 
we  shall  be  quite  undisturbed.  I  am  yery  glad  that  you 
have  been  able  to  come,  madame.  I  fear  that  my  cousin 
Diana  is  very  seriously  ill ; ?  and  he  looked  at  Frau  von 
Eaben  inquisitively. 

Frau  von  Eaben  nodded. 

'  She  is  certainly  very  ill/  she  replied,  '  and  she  must 


200  DONNA  DIANA 

be  worse  before  she  is  better — if  she  gets  over  the  crisis 
when  it  comes.  But  it  is  not  the  state  of  her  body  that 
gives  me  the  most  uneasiness/  she  added,  sighing. 

'Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  think  she  is  really  in 
love  with  that  cursed  foreigner  ? '  asked  Marco. 

Frau  von  Eaben  pursed  up  her  lips  and  hesitated  for 
a  moment. 

'  In  love  ?  '  she  repeated.  '  It  depends  on  what  you  call 
love.  You  must  remember  that  Diana  has  reached  an  age 
when  girls  become  susceptible  to — er — the  calls  of  nature. 
No,  Don  Marco,  I  do  not  think  Diana  has  really  fallen 
in  love  with  that  bear  of  an  Englishman.  She  has  had 
no  opportunity  of  doing  so,  fortunately.  But  he  has  suc- 
ceeded in  awakening  her  curiosity/ 

6  Oh,  her  curiosity/  said  Marco  significantly.  '  That  is 
generally  a  very  good  beginning/ 

Frau  von  Raben  dropped  her  eyes. 

( Exactly/  she  replied.  ( It  is  always  dangerous  when 
young  people  begin  to  inquire  into— well,  into  things,  you 
know.  Besides,  Diana  is  devoted  to  Don  Michelangelo, 
and  the  idea  that  this  Englishman  saved  his  life  naturally 
surrounds  him  with  a  halo  of  romance  in  her  eyes.  As  I 
told  you  in  my  note,  there  was  quite  a  scene  when  your 
cousins  laughed  at  him.  It  is  evident  to  me  that  she ' 

'  Has  been  making  him  the  object  of  her  virginal  cu- 
riosity/ supplemented  Marco  Savelli,  as  Frau  von  Raben 
paused  and  hesitated. 

( Well,  yes/  she  resumed.  '  She  might  very  easily  do 
that  without  being  consciously  in  love  with  him/ 

Marco  looked  at  her  and  smiled.  It  was  not  a  very 
pleasant  smile. 

'You  seem  to  have  studied  the  subject/  he  observed. 

Frau  von  Raben's  sallow  face  momentarily  assumed  a 
salmon-coloured  hue. 

'  I  have  had  so  much  to  do  with  young  people/  she  re- 
plied, '  and  of  course,  I  understand  the  nature  of  my  own 
sex.  If  Diana  had  seen  more  of  this  young  man — if  she 
had  ever  been  alone  with  him — I  should  be  more  uneasy. 


DONNA  DIANA  201 

As  it  is,  I  regard  the  matter  as  merely  due  to  natural 
development.  It  is  impossible  that  she  can  be  actually  in 
love,  either  with  him  or  with  any  other  man.  Moreover, 
I  have  had  many  conversations  with  her,  and  have  often 
been  struck  by  the  complete  indifference  she  formerly  dis- 
played towards  such  subjects.' 

Marco  Savelli  did  not  reply  for  a  moment. 

f  And  what  do  you  think  has  caused  her  to  lose  that  in- 
difference ? '  he  asked  presently. 

'But  I  have  told  you.  A  girl's  curiosity,  developed 
under  purely  physical  conditions.  What  else  would  have 
caused  her  to  lose  it?  Indeed,  as  Diana  has  this  voca- 
tion, it  will  not  be  a  bad  thing,  perhaps,  if  she  has  lost  it. 
She  will  turn  to  the  consolation  of  a  spiritual  love  the 
more  readily  if  her  imagination  becomes  more  intense/ 

'  Of  course,  that  is  quite  true/  replied  Marco.  '  But 
I  do  not  see/  he  added,  'how  spiritual  embraces  could 
be  properly  appreciated  by  anybody  who  had  never  known 
the  desire  for  material  ones/ 

Frau  von  Raben,  notwithstanding  the  number  of  years 
she  had  spent  in  a  Roman  household,  had  never  been  able 
to  detect  the  native  irony. 

'  Ah/  she  said,  with  a  sigh,  '  it  is  no  doubt  a  compensa- 
tion— that  ecstasy  of  feeling  the  embraces  of  a  spiritual 
bridegroom.  This  is  just  what  I  meant  when  I  said  per- 
haps Diana's  loss  of  indifference  would  not  be  a  misfor- 
tune for  her.  After  all,  the  body  and  the  soul  must  be 
united  in  this  life,  and  the  sexual  desires  of  the  one, 
rightly  employed,  may  serve  to  render  more  ardent  the 
spiritual  longings  of  the  other.' 

It  was  Frau  von  Raben's  favourite  subject,  and  she  had 
ceased  to  feel  any  shyness  in  discussing  it  with  Marco 
Savelli  in  connection  with  Diana's  future.  If  she  could 
have  known  that  her  observations  were  repeated,  with  a 
mimicry  of  her  voice,  manner,  and  Teutonic  accent,  for 
the  delectation  of  Countess  Verini  in  the  privacy  of  the 
latter's  sitting-room,  it  is  probable  that  she  might  have 
been  more  reticent. 


202  DONNA   DIANA 

'  It  must  be  most  interesting/  said  Marco  Savelli,  as 
Frau  von  Raben,  with  folded  hands,  sat  and  gazed  at 
him;  'and  anyone  like  myself,  who  has  studied  certain 
branches  of  theology,  knows  that  you  have  excellent  au- 
thority for  what  you  say/  . 

'What  must  be  most  interesting?'  asked  Frau  von 
Raben,  a  little  puzzled. 

e  Well,  the  process  of  attempting  to  combine  sacred  and 
profane  love.  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  never  am 
quite  sure  which  is  which  when  I  look  at  Titian's  rep- 
resentations of  them  in  the  Borghese  Gallery.  It  shows 
what  a  philosopher  the  man  must  have  been/ 

*  Ah,  yes ! '  exclaimed  Frau  von  Raben.  '  It  is  a  ques- 
tion of  psychology — such  holy  men  as  St.  Alfonso  Liguori 
and  St.  Ignatius  understood  that.' 

'It  is  certainly  a  question  of  psychology,'  said  Marco. 
'But,'  he  continued,  'to  return  to  Diana — is  it  not  a 
little  sudden,  this  curiosity  concerning  things  to  which 
she  has  hitherto  been  indifferent?  I  confess  I  do  not 
understand  her  outburst  of  indignation  on  this  English- 
man's behalf,  unless  she  is  more  in  love  with  him  than 
we  think.  You  say  that  since  Easter  she  has  never  seen 
him ;  but  are  you  quite  sure  of  this,  madame  ? ' 

'  Of  course  I  am  sure,'  replied  Frau  von  Raben.  '  How 
could  she  have  seen  him?  Diana  has  never  left  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  unless  accompanied  by  the  Princess  or  myself. 
The  thing  is  impossible.' 

'Ah!  Either  you  or  my  aunt  have  always  been  with 
her — you  are  quite  sure  of  that?'  returned  Marco. 

'But  perfectly  sure!  Twice,  or  perhaps  three  times, 
she  went  to  spend  the  afternoon  in  the  Castelnuovo  Gar- 
dens, accompanied  by  the  Princess's  maid,  old  Ersilia; 
but,  of  course,  there  she  would  be  quite  safe,  and  Ersilia 
is  trustworthy.' 

'Nevertheless,'  returned  Marco,  'I  am  convinced  that 
they  have  met.  You  must  question  Ersilia,  madame.  As 
for  Vane,  I  will  have  him  watched.  We  must  find  out 
where  he  goes,  and  what  he  does.  I  meant  to  have  it 


DONNA   DIANA  203 

done  before,  but,,  knowing  that  he  could  not  go  to  Palazzo 
San  Eocco  any  more,  I  thought  he  might  be  let  alone.' 

'  It  is  impossible/  repeated  Frau  von  Kaben.  f  He 
could  never  have  seen  Diana  again.  But  I  will  talk  to 
Ersilia.  She  had  strict  orders  never  to  lose  sight  of  Diana, 
even  when  they  were  inside  the  gardens  of  Palazzo  Castel- 
nuovo.  But  why  does  this  Englishman  remain  in  Eome  ?  ' 
she  added  impatiently. 

'  That  is  what  I  mean  to  find  out,'  said  Marco  dryly. 
6  He  has  been  here  too  long,  and  he  may  find  the  air  of 
Rome  unhealthy  if  he  stays  much  longer.  I  suppose,'  he 
added  abruptly,  'that  Diana's  fever  is  not  so  high  as  to 
make  her  at  all  delirious?' 

'  I  am  told  that  she  wanders  at  intervals/  replied  Frau 
von  Raben. 

e  You  are  told  ?    Then  you  do  not  go  to  her  room  ? ' 

Frau  von  Raben  looked  a  little  confused. 

'  Sick  people  take  strange  fancies  into  their  heads/  she 
replied.  (  Of  course,  my  wish  was  to  nurse  Diana,  but 
she  becomes  so  excited  whenever  I  approach  her  that  the 
doctor  says  it  is  better  she  should  not  see  me  in  the  room.' 

'But  she  has  a  nurse,  I  suppose?' 

'Yes — a  nun,  and  Ersilia.  She  is  impatient  even  of 
the  Princess  being  with  her,  and  is  always  begging  that 
Madame  de  Bonneval  may  come  to  her.' 

'Madame  de  Bonneval?' 

'  One  of  the  ladies  of  the  Sacre  Cceur/  exclaimed  Frau 
von  Raben.  '  Diana  is  always  talking  of  her.  I  saw  her 
once — a  hideous  woman;  but  they  say  that  she  is  a  great 
lady.  Of  course,  she  cannot  come,  for,  as  you  know,  the 
ladies  of  the  Sacre  Cceur  cannot  go  out  for  such  objects 
unless  by  special  permission  of  the  Superior,  and  such 
permissions  are  only  given  under  extremely  exceptional 
circumstances.  Besides,  any  affection  for  a  pupil  in  the 
Sacre  Cceur  is  at  once  remarked,  and  the  lady,  whoever 
she  may  be,  who  manifests  it  is  transferred  to  another 
house.  Madame  de  Bonneval  would  probably  not  care  to 
risk  such  a  rebuke  by  asking  for  leave  to  visit  Diana.' 


204  DONNA   DIANA 

( So/  observed  Marco  Savelli  thoughtfully,  '  the  only 
people  who  are  likely  to  hear  anything  Diana  may  say 
when  she  is  delirious  are  Ersilia  and  this  nursing- 
Sister.' 

6  For  the  moment — yes.  But  she  may  get  over  her  ob- 
jection to  my  being  in  her  room.' 

(  Or,  if  the  fever  increases,  she  will  not  know  whether 
you  are  in  it  or  not,'  rejoined  Marco.  *  It  is  unfortunate/ 
he  added,  '  for  we  should  very  likely  learn  something 
from  what  she  says.' 

( You  may  be  sure  that  I  shall  keep  my  ears  open,'  said 
Frau  von  Eaben.  'But  I  cannot  believe  that  any  com- 
munications have  passed  between  Mr.  Vane  and  Diana. 
She  has  been  weaving  a  little  romance  around  him — that 
is  all.  As  for  the  Englishman,  why  do  you  not  get  him 
out  of  Eome  ?  Then  there  would  be  an  end  to  everything. 
Do  you  know  how  he  employs  his  time  here  ? ' 

Marco  Savelli  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  Che  ne  so  io ! '  he  replied  contemptuously.  ( You  must 
ask  my  brother  Lino  about  that.  I  believe  that  he  leads 
a  very  quiet  life,  as  far  as  one  knows.' 

*  Oh,  as  far  as  one  knows,  I  dare  say/  returned  Frau 
von  Eaben. 

Marco  glanced  at  her  inquiringly. 

6  It  will  not  be  difficult  to  find  out  his  habits/  he  said ; 
'but  when  they  are  found  out  I  do  not  see  what  good  it 
will  do  to  know  them.' 

'Unless  they  are  bad.' 

Marco  smiled  slightly. 

'And  if  they  are  not  bad?'  he  asked. 

'But  they  are  sure  to  be  bad.  Why  is  he  not  in  his 
own  country,  or  murdering  those  poor  Boers  in  the  Trans- 
vaal, if  they  are  not  bad?'  demanded  Frau  von  Eaben, 
with  unconscious  inconsistency.  'If  they  are  not  bad/ 
she  added,  '  it  will  be  very  easy  to  say  that  they  are/ 

'  That  is  true/  said  Marco  thoughtfully.  '  He  might 
be  compromised  in  some  way.  It  would  be  very  useful, 
in  case  of  Diana's  recovery,  for  then  it  could  be  explained 


DONNA   DIANA  205 

to  her  that  he  was  a  mauvais  sujet,  and  that  nobody  would 
have  anything  to  do  with  him/ 

'  Precisely/  observed  Frau  von  Eaben  dryly.  '  There 
are  so  many  things  that  may  be  said  of  a  man  which  can- 
not easily  be  disproved;  and  if  Diana  has  any  romantic 
ideas  about  him,  a  little  scandal  would  be  very  useful,  as 
you  say/ 

Marco  Savelli  nodded. 

'  You  are  quite  right/  he  said,  with  a  short  laugh.  '  We 
must  be  prepared  for  all  emergencies;  and  in  these  days 
much  the  best  way  of  dealing  with  troublesome  people  is 
to  discredit  them.  But  do  you  really  think  that  Diana 
is  beginning  to  regret  her  decision  to  become  a  nun?'  he 
continued. 

Frau  von  Eaben  hesitated. 

'  I  am  not  sure/  she  replied.  '  She  appears  to  shrink 
from  talking  about  it,  which  she  was  formerly  always 
ready  to  do.  Something  has  certainty  unsettled  her.  I 
was  very  much  struck  by  a  remark  she  made  to  Maria 
during  the  scene  I  told  you  of.  She  accused  Maria  of 
being  jealous/ 

'  That  is  the  remark  of  a  woman,  not  of  a  child/  said 
Marco. 

'Exactly.     It  tells  its  own  story/ 

'  Vane  must  be  got  out  of  the  way ! '  exclaimed  Marco 
angrily.  ( If  she  dies,  of  course  it  will  not  matter ;  we 
need  not  trouble  ourselves  any  more  about  him.  But  if 
she  lives ' 

'  Ah,  if  she  lives — and  there  is  no  reason  why  she  should 
not  live — he  will  always  be  a  danger,  until  she  has  actually 
taken  her  vows/ 

'  This  Madame  de  Bonneval — had  she  a  great  influence 
over  Diana  at  the  Sacre  Cceur  ? '  asked  Marco. 

'  Diana  was  certainly  very  fond  of  her/  Frau  von  Eaben 
replied.  ( As  to  influence/  she  added,  '  that  I  cannot  tell 
you.  As  I  said  just  now,  anything  like  favouritism  is 
severely  discouraged  in  the  Sacre  Cceur/ 

6 1  will  ask  my  uncle  about  her/  said  Marco.     '  He  will 


206  DONNA   DIANA 

be  able  to  ascertain  who  and  what  she  is.  If  permission 
could  be  obtained  for  her  to  do  so,  it  might  have  a  good 
effect  if  she  visited  Diana.  She  would  hardly  be  likely 
to  say  anything  to  dissuade  her  from  entering  religion; 
and  if  Diana  has  developed  difficulties  in  her  own 
mind,  Madame  de  Bonneval  might  help  her  to  get  rid  of 
them/ 

'  Possibly/  answered  Frau  von  Eaben.  '  When  Diana 
is  convalescent  she  might  be  useful.  But  the  permission 
will  have  to  be  demanded  through  very  high  quarters. 
No  doubt  His  Eminence  could  have  the  matter  so  rep- 
resented to  the  Mother  Superior  that  an  exception  might 
be  made.  After  all,  it  would  be  for  the  good  of  the 
Church  and  for  the  welfare  of  the  poor  child's  soul.  And 
now,  Don  Marco,  I  must  leave  you.  I  shall  be  wanted 
at  Palazzo  San  Eocco.  I  will  keep  you  duly  informed  of 
what  may  happen,  and,  naturally,  you  will  hear  from  His 
Eminence  how  Diana's  illness  progresses.  He  is  informed 
of  her  state  every  two  or  three  hours,  and  yesterday  he 
came  himself/ 

'  So  he  told  me/  said  Marco.  '  My  uncle  is  really  ter- 
ribly anxious  about  her,  madame.  I  had  no  idea  he  had 
so  deep  an  affection  for  her.  It  is  really  quite  pathetic. 
You  can  understand  my  wish  that  he  should  not  have  the 
additional  sorrow  of  feeling  that  anything  had  occurred 
to  disturb  Diana's  peace  of  mind.  He  has  so  often  told 
me  how  thankful  he  was  that  she  had  such  a  marvellous 
vocation.  If  he  thought  she  was  being  tempted  to  re- 
nounce it,  I  believe  it  would  have  a  most  serious  effect 
upon  him.' 

'  Ah,  yes,  indeed ! '  sighed  Frau  von  Eaben,  as  she  rose 
from  her  chair  and  commenced  putting  on  a  pair  of  well- 
worn  black  gloves.  '  It  would  be  a  terrible  shock  to  His 
Eminence.  Of  course,  as  Diana's  guardian,  he  feels 
doubly  responsible  for  her  spiritual  welfare.  But  you 
must  not  be  uneasy,  Don  Marco.  I  feel  sure  that  we  shall 
succeed  in  guarding  Diana  from  harm,  and  that  the  Car- 
dinal will  have  the  joy  of  seeing  her  being  led  in  her 


DONNA   DIANA  20? 

bridal  clothes  to  the  embraces  of  her  spiritual  Spouse,  who 
will  initiate  her  into  the  highest  mysteries  of  love/ 

Marco  Savelli  accompanied  her  to  the  ante-room,  where 
he  took  leave  of  her,  and  returned  to  his  own  sitting-room. 
Then  he  lighted  a  cigarette  and  laughed  gently. 

6  She  is  really  very  droll ! '  he  said  to  himself.  '  Such 
a  delightful  mixture  of  piety  and  prurience.  I  wish  I 
could  take  her  to  see  Laura.  She  would  certainly  amuse 
Laura  very  much/ 


CHAPTEE    XVII 

DIANA'S  illness  was  so  far  pursuing  a  normal  course.  The 
fever  was  high,  but  she  had  never  as  yet  lost  consciousness, 
and  though  at  times  she  would  become  slightly  delirious, 
she  soon  regained  her  lucidity.  As  long  as  Ersilia  and 
the  nurse  were  in  attendance  upon  her,  she  would  remain 
tranquil,  but  when  Princess  San  Rocco  visited  her,  as  she 
did  several  times  in  the  course  of  the  day,  Diana  soon 
became  restless  and  uneasy,  while  any  attempt  on  the  part 
of  Frau  von  Raben  to  enter  the  room  invariably  excited 
her  and  caused  her  temperature  to  rise. 

She  seemed,  indeed,  to  have  a  nervous  dread  of  being 
left  alone  with  Fran  von  Raben,  and  implored  both  Ersilia 
and  the  Sister  not  to  allow  the  latter  to  approach  her. 
At  first  Frau  von  Raben  had  insisted  on  taking  her  share 
of  the  nursing;  but  Ersilia  represented  to  the  doctor  the 
bad  effect  that  her  presence  had  upon  the  patient,  and  he 
in  turn  suggested  to  the  Princess  that  Frau  von  Raben 
would  do  better  to  keep  away  from  the  sick-room  until 
Donna  Diana  should  be  more  herself. 

Frau  von  Raben  expressed  herself  as  bitterly  hurt  by 
Diana's  extraordinary  conduct.  She  had  always  suspected 
that  Diana  disliked  her,  and  thought  it  quite  probable  that 
in  her  lucid  moments  the  girl  was  afraid  of  what  she 
might  unconsciously  reveal  in  her  presence  should  she 
begin  to  wander  in  her  mind. 

Under  pretence  of  trying  to  ascertain  how  Diana  had 
contracted  her  fever,  Frau  von  Raben  had  questioned 
Ersilia  very  sharply  as  to  what  had  happened  at  the  Pa- 
lazzo Castelnuovo  on  the  days  when  she  had  been  in  her 
charge. 

Ersilia,  however,  was  more  than  equal  to  the  occasion. 


DONNA   DIANA  209 

She  detested  Frau  von  Eaben.  To  begin  with,  the  latter 
was  a  German,  and  Ersilia  hated  the  sight  of  a  German, 
for  had  they  not  killed  her -young  brother  at  Solferino? 
It  was  quite  in  vain  that  the  Princess  had  tried  to  ex- 
plain to  her  that  Austria  had  been  the  guilty  party,  and 
that  Frau  von  Eaben  was  not  an  Austrian.  They  all 
spoke  the  same  barbarous  language,  which  sounded  like 
dogs  snarling  over  a  bone,  and  that  was  quite  enough  for 
Ersilia. 

In  the  next  place,  Frau  von  Eaben  hated  Ersilia's  fa- 
vourite, Lino  Savelli.  Even  had  there  been  nothing  else 
against  her,  these  two  facts  were  sufficient  to  cause  the 
old  Eoman  servant  to  regard  lying  to  the  dame  de  com- 
pagnie  as  almost  a  matter  of  duty,  and  she  lied  accord- 
ingly, with  all  the  simple  dignity  in  which  a  Eoman 
knows  how  to  clothe  a  lie,  when  absolutely  necessary  to 
tell  one ;  for  a  Eoman .  of  the  people  is  high  bred  and 
courteous  in  lying  as  in  many  other  things. 

Moreover,  Ersilia  had  given  her  word  to  Lino  Savelii 
that  she  would  help  him  to  bring  about  a  meeting  between 
his  friend  and  his  cousin  Diana,  and  she  would  have  suf- 
fered her  tongue  to  be  torn  from  her  mouth  rather  than 
betray  him. 

*  I  was  told  never  to  lose  sight  of  Donna  Diana,  and 
I  never  did  lose  sight  of  her/  she  replied,  in  answer  to 
Frau  von  Eaben's  repeated  questions.  '  As  to  the  fever/ 
she  added,  'it  is  very  natural  that  she  should  take  it, 
sitting  all  the  afternoon  over  those  tiresome  ponds.  In 
the  streets,  now,  there  would  be  no  danger,  and  she  would 
have  had  men  and  women  to  look  at  instead  of  stupid 
fish/ 

( And  nobody  came  into  the  garden — you  were  quite 
undisturbed?'  Frau  von  Eaben  had  asked  finally. 

Ersilia  looked  at  her  stolidly. 

'But  certainly  people  came/  she  said  tranquilly. 

'  Ah ! 9  exclaimed  Frau  von  Eaben  eagerly.  ( And  who 
were  these  people?  It  is  your  duty  to  tell  me,  you  know, 
Ersilia.  You  should  have  reported  it  before.  But  you 


210  DONNA   DIANA 

need  not  be  afraid;  only  you  must  tell  me  truthfully  who 
they  were/ 

'  Of  course  it  is  my  duty  to  tell  you/  said  Ersilia.  '  I 
do  not  know  how  it  is  that  I  forgot  to  mention  it.  Sicuro ! 
Two  men  came,  and  they  certainly  disturbed  us  very  much. 
It  was  very  unpleasant ' 

'Yes,  yes,  but  who  were  they?'  repeated  Frau  von 
Raben.  'I  insist  upon  knowing  who  they  were.  If  you 
do  not  tell  me,  I  shall  speak  to  Her  Excellency.' 

e  Oh/  replied  Ersilia,  '  they  were  gardeners,  and  they 
were  carting  manure.  It  smelt  very  bad.  I  have  since 
thought  that  perhaps  it  was  from  this  Donna  Diana  took 
the  fever.' 

Frau  von  Raben  turned  away  impatiently. 

c  Stupid  idiot ! '  she  muttered  to  herself  in  German, 
while  Ersilia  walked  composedly  out  of  the  room.  Her 
suspicions  were  quite  set  at  rest,  however,  by  Ersilia's 
stupidity.  Indeed,  she  had  never  believed  that  there 
could  have  been  any  clandestine  meeting  between  Diana 
and  Edmund  Vane,  and  she  had  questioned  the  old  serv- 
ant more  in  order  to  be  able  to  satisfy  Marco  Savelli  that 
she  had  done  so  than  from  expectation  of  learning  any- 
thing from  her. 

Diana  was  approaching  the  end  of  the  second  week  of 
her  illness.  During  the  last  three  or  four  days  there  had 
been  a  satisfactory  diminution  in  her  temperature,  and 
she  appeared  to  be  stronger  and  better  in  consequence. 

Frau  von  Raben  had  not  attempted  to  enter  the  sick- 
room since  the  Princess  had  conveyed  to  her  the  doctor's 
suggestion  that  she  should  not  do  so.  She  had  contented 
herself  with  asking  stiffly  as  to  Diana's  progress,  and 
with  assuming  an  air  of  one  who  had  received  an  un- 
merited injury.  This  attitude  caused  Princess  San  Rocco 
to  feel  sorry  that  Diana  should  have  taken  a  nervous  dis- 
like to  her,  a  feeling  which  became  accentuated  when  Frau 
von  Raben  would  announce  her  intention  of  going  to 
church  to  pray  for  Diana's  restoration  to  health. 

As  Diana  was  less  feverish,,  Princess  San  Rocco  thought 


DONNA   DIANA 

that,  in  fairness  to  Frau  von  Raben,  she  should  try  to 
reason  with  her  on  the  subject,  and  to  make  her  under- 
stand that  it  was  a  little  unkind  to  exclude  from  her  room 
anyone  who  had  been  so  good  to  her. 

Diana  was  filled  with  compunction  and  remorse.  She 
did  not  like  Frau  von  Raben — that  was  perfectly  true; 
but  she  did  not  want  to  hurt  her  feelings,  and  it  disturbed 
her  to  think  that  she  had  done  so. 

'  Of  course  she  can  come  and  see  me,'  she  said  to  the 
Princess;  and  then  she  hesitated  a  little.  There  had 
never  been  any  great  sympathy  between  Diana  and  her 
aunt,  notwithstanding  the  latter's  kindness  towards  her 
niece  and  sincere  affection  for  her.  As  Diana  had  told 
Cardinal  Savelli,  the  Princess  could  never  realize  that  she 
was  no  longer  a  child.  The  consequence  was  that  the  girl 
was  reserved  with  her.  Princess  San  Rocco  had  fallen 
into  the  error  of  thinking  that  her  niece  had  not  much  in 
her,  and,  this  being  the  case,  the  Princess  thought  it  was 
no  doubt  all  for  the  best  that  she  should  have  preferred 
the  peaceful  life  of  the  cloister. 

Princess  San  Rocco  herself  was  an  indolent  woman, 
rather  bored  with  life  in  general,  and  yet  not  particularly 
inclined  to  make  it  more  interesting.  Nevertheless,  she 
was  kind-hearted,  and,  though  by  no  means  bigoted,  sjn- 
cerely  attached  to  her  religion.  Her  niece's  vocation  for 
a  religious  life  had  been  a  source  of  genuine  satisfaction 
to  her.  She  was  convinced  that  such  vocations  were  among 
the  highest  gifts  of  God,  and  that  they  should  be  honoured 
and  encouraged  accordingly. 

It  was  natural,  perhaps,  that  Princess  San  Rocco  should 
have  formed  her  judgment  upon  Diana's  vocation  more  or 
less  according  to  Cardinal  Savelli's  ideas  upon  the  sub- 
ject. She  was  fond  of  her  brother,  and  proud  of  the  high 
position  he  had  attained  in  the  Church,  while  his  opinion 
and  episcopal  authority  carried  greater  weight  with  her 
than  she  was  perhaps  fully  aware  of.  If  there  had  ever 
been  a  time  when  she  had  been  inclined  to  regret  that 
Diana,  instead  of  making  some  brilliant  marriage  such 


212  DONNA   DIANA 

as  her  beauty  and  name  might  well  have  secured  her, 
had  elected  to  abandon  the  world  for  the  sake  of  her 
religion,  the  knowledge  that  her  brother  approved  the 
step  and  considered  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  restrain 
the  girPs  enthusiasm  had  been  sufficient  to  convince  her 
that  her  niece  was  indeed  singularly  favoured. 

Princess  San  Eocco  was  grieved,  therefore,  when  Diana, 
after  hesitating  for  a  moment,  said  shyly: 

'  Will  you  ask  Frau  von  Raben  not  to  talk  to  me  about 
the  convent?  I  do  not  want  to  speak  about  those  things 
with  her/ 

The  Princess  had  received  more  than  one  mysterious 
hint  from  Frau  von  Eaben  as  to  the  change  she  had  no- 
ticed in  Diana,  and  her  fears  that  some  evil  influences 
were  at  work  to  upset  the  girl's  peace  of  mind. 

'  I  will  tell  her  so  if  you  wish  it,'  she  said  to  her  niece 
gravely.  'But  I  cannot  understand  why  you  should  want 
to  avoid  the  subject  with  Frau  von  Raben.  Hitherto  you 
have  always  liked  to  talk  about  it.' 

'  I  know/  answered  Diana ;  6  but  Frau  von  Raben  does 
not  understand,  and  she  makes  me  think  of  things  I  do 
not  want  to  think  of.' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  Diana  ? '  asked  the  Princess,  with 
some  astonishment. 

Diana's  face  flushed  suddenly. 

'  I  cannot  explain,  aunt,'  she  said  slowly,  '  but  she  al- 
ways talks  to  me  of  things  I  do  not  understand — and — 
and  I  do  not  like  it.  Madame  de  Bonneval  never  talked 
to  me  like  that.  But  Frau  von  Raben  always  seems  to 
think  I  must  have  feelings  which  I  have  not  got,  and  tries 
to  explain  them  to  me.  They  trouble  me/  she  added 
wearily,  '  and  I  do  not  want  to  think  about  them.' 

'But  what  things?'  asked  the  Princess. 

e  Oh,  all  sorts  of  things/  said  Diana  vaguely.  '  It  does 
not  matter,  and  I  am  sure  she  means  to  be  very  kind.' 

Princess  San  Rocco  looked  at  her  inquiringly,  and  then 
she  passed  her  hand  gently  over  Diana's  brow. 

'  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  it,  f  iglia  mia ! '  she  said 


DONNA   DIANA  213 

soothingly.  '  You  must  only  think  of  getting  well  now. 
Poor  Frau  von  Raben  was  sorry  that  you  did  not  want  her 
to  come  to  see  you;  she  has  thought  so  much  of  you. 
Every  day  she  goes  to  pray  for  you,  and  she  has  had  Mass 
said  that  you  may  soon  be  well,  so  you  must  not  be  un- 
grateful to  her.  And  I  think  that  you  should  not  be 
afraid  of  talking  to  her  about  your  vocation  when  you  are 
better,  as  you  have  always  done.  You  should  keep  it  ever 
before  you,  Diana,  and  always  remember  what  a  privilege 
has  been  granted  to  you.  For  it  would  be  a  dreadful 
thing  if  you  allowed  worldly  thoughts  to  upset  your  mind, 
when,  please  God,  you  will  so  soon  begin  your  novitiate/ 

Diana  did  not  reply,  and  the  Princess,  looking  at  her 
again,  saw  that  she  was  flushed  and  was  growing  restless. 

'  The  child  is  not  herself  from  the  fever/  she  thought. 
e  She  has  taken  some  strange  ideas  into  her  head  about 
poor  Von  Raben,  and  has  very  likely  dreamed  them.  Per- 
haps Frau  von  Raben  perplexed  her  with  some  of  her 
arguments  before  she  was  taken  ill.  I  often  tell  her  she 
forgets  what  a  child  Diana  really  is.  It  is  not  like  talking 
to  Maria  or  Griulia.  I  must  give  her  a  hint  to  avoid  speak- 
ing of  anything  to  Diana  that  may  exite  her.  If  anybody 
is  to  talk  to  her  about  religion,  my  brother  had  far  better 
do  so/ 

'  I  will  tell  Frau  von  Raben  she  may  come  to  you  later 
on/  she  said  aloud  to  Diana.  (  She  will  not  remain  long, 
but  I  know  it  will  be  a  great  pleasure  to  her  to  see  you, 
now  that  you  are  a  little  better.  She  will  feel  that  her 
prayers  for  you  have  been  heard,  poor  thing!  Now  you 
must  keep  quite  quiet,  and  I  will  send  Ersilia  to  sit  with 
you,  for  Sister  Agnese  has  gone  to  get  some  sleep.'  And 
Princess  San  Rocco,  after  adjusting  Diana's  pillows,  kissed 
her  and  left  the  room  to  summon  her  maid. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE  improvement  in  Diana's  condition  was  maintained, 
and  on  the  following  day  she  told  Ersilia  that  she  hoped 
Fran  von  Raben  would  pay  her  a  visit.  The  first  expres- 
sion of  this  wish  brought  no  response.  Ersilia  pretended 
not  to  hear,  and  suddenly  discovered  that  it  was  time  for 
Diana  to  take  some  nourishment,  while  a  repetition  of  the 
suggestion  elicited  distinct  disapproval. 

Madama,  Ersilia  declared,  could  very  well  remain  where 
she  was.  Neither  she  nor  Sister  Agnese  wanted  her  in 
the  sick-room,  and  the  fewer  people  the  signorina  saw  the 
better. 

Diana  smiled  a  little.  She  felt  very  weak,  and  in  her 
heart  quite  agreed  with  Ersilia;  but  Princess  San  Rocco's 
observation  that  she  should  not  be  ungrateful  had  dwelt  in 
her  mind.  After  all,  she  was  ungrateful.  Frau  von  Raben 
had  been  praying  for  her,  though  she,  Diana,  had  fretfully 
implored  that  she  might  be  kept  away  from  her  room. 
That  Ersilia  shared  her  dislike  of  Frau  von  Raben  was  no 
secret  to  her,  and,  indeed,  she  had  overheard  her  telling 
Sister  Agnese  that  madama  was  an  old  busybody. 

6  But,  Ersilia/  she  demurred,  ( I  should  like  Frau  von 
Raben  to  come.  Now  I  am  better  it  would  be  very  unkind 
not  to  see  her.  A  few  days  ago  I  felt  so  ill,  and  I  really 
don't  believe  I  always  knew  what  I  was  talking  about/ 

'  Altro ! '  said  Ersilia  dryly.  '  What  you  talked  about 
does  not  matter  at  all ;  but  it  is  just  as  well  that  madama 
did  not  hear  you.' 

e  Oh ! '  exclaimed  Diana.  '  I  hope  I  did  not  say  unkind 
things  of  her!  I  seem  to  remember  now;  I  had  horrid 
dreams — about  her — and  Lino — and ' 

She  broke  off  abruptly,  and  looked  at  Ersilia  almost 
timidly. 

814 


DONNA   DIANA  215 

No  allusion  to  the  meeting  with  Lino  Savelli  and  Vane 
had  ever  been  made  to  her  by  Ersilia,  and  she  herself  had 
shrunk  from  mentioning  the  subject  to  the  old  servant. 
The  latter  glanced  at  her  shrewdly. 

'  You  talked  a  great  deal/  she  said ;  '  but  there  was  no- 
body to  hear  you  except  Sister  Agnese  and  myself,  and 
Sister  Agnese  does  not  pay  much  attention  to  what  sick 
people  say.  She  has  had  too  much  to  do  with  them.  She 
told  me  of  a  young  lady  she  nursed  not  long  ago  who  used 
the  most  dreadful  language  when  she  was  delirious — but 
language  to  make  an  ox-driver  feel  ashamed !  Che  vuole  ? 
it  only  shows  that  we  are  all  alike  at  bottom ! '  and  Ersilia 
shrugged  her  shoulders  philosophically. 

Diana  lay  still  and  looked  at  her.  She  was  conscious  of 
a  strange  indifference  as  to  whether  she  had  used  bad  lan- 
guage or  not,  but  was  too  weak  to  be  surprised  at  it.  It 
seemed  to  her  that  she  had  a  vague  recollection  of  plead- 
ing with  Lino's  English  friend  not  to  make  her  think  of 
things  which  troubled  her — new  things  to  which  she  had 
formerly  given  only  passing  thoughts  as  being  outside  her 
world.  She  remembered  the  look  in  his  eyes,  the  tones  of 
his  voice  as  he  told  her  of  his  love  for  her.  The  feeling 
that  something  was  wanted  of  her,  something  that  she  alone 
had  power  to  give  or  to  withhold,  had  been  a  fresh  expe- 
rience, a  sensation  wholly  delightful  because  so  mysterious 
and  unfathomable — a  glimpse,  as  it  were,  through  a  half- 
opened  door  of  pleasant  ways,  leading  she  knew  not  whither. 
Yes !  she  had  something  to  give  which  was  desired  by  this 
man  who  had  been  so  strong  and  yet  so  tender  in  the  plead- 
ing of  his  cause.  Of  course,  she  remembered  now.  It  had 
all  come  back  to  her — as  a  dream,  indeed,  but  as  a  dream 
that  had  stirred  in  her  strange  fancies,  half -acknowledged 
longings  to  be  free  to  tread  the  paths  suddenly  revealed 
to  her. 

She  wondered  if  she  had  spoken  aloud  in  these  dreams, 
and  wished  that  she  could  bring  herself  to  ask  Ersilia  the 
question.  If  only  Madame  de  Bonneval  had  been  with  her 
it  would  have  been  easier,  for  she  would  have  understood. 


216  DONNA   DIANA 

But  Frau  von  Eaben!  Diana  shivered  a  little  as  she 
thought  of  Frau  von  Eaben's  curiosity,  and  of  the  ques- 
tions she  would  be  sure  to  ask.  It  would  seem  like  a 
sacrilege  to  allow  her  access  to  her  thought,  and  she  gave  a 
sigh  of  relief  that  she  had  been  kept  away  from  her  room, 
little  suspecting  that  it  was  owing  to  Ersilia's  diplomacy 
with  the  doctor  and  Sister  Agnese  if  madama's  attempts 
to  share  in  her  nursing  had  hitherto  been  frustrated. 

'  This  afternoon,  Ersilia/  Diana  said  presently,  '  I  will 
see  Frau  von  Eaben.  I  do  not  want  her  to  think  me  un- 
grateful. You  will  tell  her,  will  you  not  ? ' 

Ersilia  sniffed  contemptuously. 

'  If  the  signorina  insists/  she  answered  unwillingly ;  '  but 
it  would  be  better  to  wait.  The  doctor  orders  complete 
quiet,  and  madama's  voice  is  like  a  barrel-organ  with  the 
rain  in  it.' 

Diana  smiled. 

( I  will  ask  her  not  to  stop  very  long/  she  said ;  '  but  it 
would  be  unkind  not  to  see  her,  and,  besides,  my  aunt 
wishes  it.9 

Ersilia  looked  at  her,  and  hesitated  for  a  moment. 

'  You  are  very  weak,  signorina/  she  said  at  length,  '  and, 
ebbene  !  I  will  tell  you.  Madama  is  a  mischief-maker !  She 
has  been  trying  to  find  out  from  me  whom  you  saw  in  the 
Castelnuovo  Gardens  the  other  day.  Not  that  she  learned 
anything,  for,  God  be  praised !  a  Eoman  can  outwit  a  Ger- 
man any  day.  But  you  must  be  on  your  guard.  Madama 
hates  Don  Michelangelo,  and  the  Englishman  also,  and  she 
will  work  them  ill  if  she  can.  Do  not  let  her  question  you, 
signorina.  You  can  always  pretend  not  to  understand 
what  she  means.  God  knows  what  suspicions  she  has  got 
into  her  head;  but  you  have  only  to  say  nothing,  and  all 
will  be  well/ 

Diana  blushed  violently. 

'  I  wish  they  had  never  come  to  the  garden ! 9  she  mur- 
mured. 

Ersilia  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

'  Why  shouldn't  they  have  come  ? '  she  retorted.     '  You 


DONNA   DIANA  217 

are  not  a  prisoner,  and  you  are  not  a  nun — yet.  I  dare 
say  the  Englishman  does  not  intend  that  you  ever  shall 
be  a  nun,  and  small  blame  to  him ! ' 

'  Ersilia !  > 

'But  certainly  I  say  small  blame  to  him/  repeated  Er- 
silia stolidly.  Having  once  broken  silence,  she  was  deter- 
mined to  speak  her  mind,  even  at  the  risk  of  exciting  her 
patient.  (  Nuns  are  all  very  well,  and  I  have  nothing 
against  them,  but  it  is  women  like  madama  who  should  be 
nuns — old  women,  dried  up.  Oh,  you  need  not  be  horri- 
fied, signorina !  What  do  you  suppose  Domeneddio  made 
young  men  and  young  women  for — simply  to  make  fools 
of  them  and  of  Himself  too  ? '  And  Ersilia  ended  with  an 
abrupt  recommendation  to  her  amazed  listener  to  'go  out 
fishing/  a  contemptuous  Romanesco  form  of  dismissing  an 
untenable  proposition. 

Diana  closed  her  eyes  wearily. 

'  Do  not  talk  to  me  any  more,  Ersilia/  she  said.  '  I  am 
so  tired;  I  want  to  sleep/ 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  after  the  doctor  had  visited  her 
and  had  pronounced  himself  satisfied  with  her  condition, 
Diana  again  insisted  upon  seeing  Frau  von  Raben,  and 
Ersilia  was  reluctantly  obliged  to  take  her  message. 

Frau  von  Raben  entered  her  room  soon  afterwards  and 
sat  down  at  her  bedside,  after  remarking  somewhat  huf- 
fily that  she  was  very  pleased  Diana  now  felt  equal  to  re- 
ceiving a  visit  from  her. 

Diana  noticed  that  she  had  brought  her  knitting,  and 
for  some  time  she  lay  in  silence,  watching  with  a  kind  of 
fascination  the  stitches  diminishing  on  the  needles,  for 
Frau  von  Raben  was,  as  usual,  engaged  upon  turning  a  heel. 

Every  now  and  then  Diana  would  look  up  from  the  stock- 
ing to  find  Frau  von  Raben's  gaze  fixed  upon  her  curiously, 
and  when  their  eyes  met  the  latter  would  sigh  deeply.  The 
heel,  the  silence,  and  the  sighs  combined  had  a  distinctly 
depressing  effect,  and  made  Diana  feel  extremely  nervous. 

It  was  a  relief  when  Frau  von  Raben  observed : 

'  I  have  been  trying  to  think  how  you  could  have  caught 


218  DONNA   DIANA 

your  illness,  Diana.  It  is  very  mysterious,  for  you  have 
not  been  away  from  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  and  nobody  has 
ever  caught  a  fever  here/ 

(  The  doctor  says  I  may  have  had  it  in  me  for  some  time/ 
answered  Diana.  '  I  have  often  felt  unwell  of  late.  Per- 
haps at  the  Sacre  Cceur — -' 

'  Oh,  no,  the  Sacre  Cceur  is  healthy  enough/  said  Frau 
von  Eaben  decidedly.  '  If  you  had  caught  it  there  other 
girls  would  probably  have  contracted  it  also ;  but  we  have 
made  inquiries,  and  none  of  them  have  been  ill.  Of  course, 
you  may  have  got  it  in  the  gardens  at  the  Palazzo  Castel- 
nuovo.  For  instance,  you  and  Ersilia  noticed  a  very  bad 
smell,  did  you  not,  on  the  last  afternoon  you  were  there, 
when  those  men  were  carrying  some  manure  ? ' 

Diana  looked  at  her  with  surprise. 

'  No/  she  replied,  '  I  do  not  remember  noticing  any  bad 
smell.  Besides,  there  were  no  men  carrying  manure/ 

Frau  von  Raben's  needles  worked  more  quickly  than 
ever. 

'You  must  have  forgotten/  she  said  quietly.  'Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  you  saw  no  men  in  the  gardens  that 
afternoon  ? ' 

Diana  was  conscious  that  Frau  von  Raben  was  looking 
at  her  closely. 

6 1  certainly  did  not  see  them  or  smell  any  bad  smell/ 
she  repeated. 

'You  saw  no  men — nobody  at  all?'  persisted  Frau  von 
Raben. 

Diana  remembered  Ersilia's  warning. 

6 1  don't  know  what  you  mean/  she  said,  with  an  effort, 
and  her  face  flushed  painfully  as  she  uttered  the  words. 

' But  it  is  very  simple.  You  can  surely  remember 
whether  you  saw  anybody  in  the  gardens  or  not/ 

Diana's  eyes  flashed  with  a  sudden  anger. 

'  I  saw  nobody/  she  said  sullenly. 

For  a  minute  or  two  neither  spoke  again,  and  Frau  von 
Raben  knitted  rapidly. 

'It  is  very  odd/  she  remarked  presently,  'that  Ersilia 


DONNA   DIANA  219 

should  remember  seeing  two  men — two  gardeners,  she  says 
— and  that  you  should  recollect  nothing  about  it.' 

Diana  did  not  reply. 

'  However/  proceeded  Frau  von  Eaben,  '  no  doubt  your 
memory  is  confused,  and,  after  all,  it  does  not  much  mat- 
ter where  or  how  you  got  this  illness.  As  it  was  Almighty 
God's  will  that  you  should  have  it,  we  may  be  sure  it  was 
sent  you  for  some  merciful  purpose.  We  have  so  much 
time  for  meditation,  for  reflection,  in  sickness,  and  the  de- 
sires of  the  flesh,  to  which  we  have  perhaps  attached  so 
much  importance  when  we  were  in  health,  become  marvel- 
lously insignificant  when  we  are  ill.' 

'  I  can  think  better  when  I  am  well/  said  Diana. 

Frau  von  Eaben  moved  impatiently  in  her  chair.  Diana 
was  certainly  a  very  difficult  person  to  talk  to,  she  thought. 

( Ah/  she  replied,  ( that  is  a  proof  that  when  you  are  in 
health  you  should  strive  never  to  give  way  to  unworthy 
thoughts,  for  then  they  will  not  trouble  you  when  illness 
overtakes  you.  I  do  not  wish  to  say  anything  that  may 
distress  you,  Diana,  but  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  you  have 
been  unsettled  in  your  mind  of  late.  Perhaps  you  have 
thought  me  unsympathetic,  but  if  you  have  you  have 
wronged  me  very  much.  You  must  recollect  that  I  have 
been  a  girl  myself — oh,  some  years  ago,  of  course — but  still, 
one  remembers  a  girl's  feelings,  a  girl's  temptations.  I 
have  thought  lately  that  those  temptations  have  been 
threatening  to  become  too  strong  for  you,  and  that  you 
have  been  in  danger  of  forgetting  your  vocation  to  higher 
things  than  earthly  love.' 

Frau  von  Eaben  paused,  and,  laying  down  her  knitting, 
looked  at  Diana  searchingly. 

'  Of  course/  she  resumed,  '  we  cannot  help  our  human 
nature ;  it  is  a  burden  that  we  must  bear.  And  when  we 
grow  to  womanhood  it  makes  itself  felt — oh  yes,  decidedly 
it  makes  itself  felt!  But  we  need  not  seek  to  satisfy  it 
materially,  even  though  others  may  tempt  us  to  do  so ;  that 
is  reserved  for  lower  natures — natures  which  have  never 
felt  the  yearning  for  spiritual  love.  But  think  how  dif- 


220  DONNA   DIANA 

f erent  it  has  been  with  you,  Diana !  You  have  a  Lover 
who  will  satisfy  all  your  longings,  who  will  give  you  de- 
lights that  no  mere  carnal  love  could  ever  afford  you.' 

Diana  raised  herself  in  her  bed  and  pushed  her  hair 
nervously  off  her  forehead  while  Frau  von  Eaben  was 
speaking.  Her  eyes  grew  bright  and  restless,  and  her  breath 
came  in  short,  hurried  gasps. 

6  Why  do  you  talk  to  me  about  it  ? '  she  exclaimed — 
'  why,  why  ?  Do  you  want  to  force  me  to  think  of  those 
things  ?  I  never  did  think  of  them  until  you  began  to  speak 
of  them  to  me.  But  now — I  wish  I  had  known — yes,  I 
wish  I  had  known.  Do  you  suppose  I  thought  about  love 
when  I  wished  to  give  myself  to  God  ?  Did  God  look  at  me, 
speak  to  me,  tell  me  that  He  wanted  me — myself?  And 
now,  what  has  come  to  me  I  do  not  know,  but  I  cannot 
love  God — not  like  that — and  I  dare  not  love  a  man,  for 
God  would  be  angry/ 

She  sank  back  on  the  pillows  trembling,  and  the  bright 
red  flush  on  her  face  faded,  to  be  replaced  by  a  deadly 
pallor.  For  once  in  her  life  Frau  von  Eaben  was 
frightened. 

6  Diana/  she  said  hurriedly,  '  you  misunderstand  me.  I 
did  not  mean  to  excite  you.  I ' 

But  Diana  did  not  notice  her.  She  lay  exhausted,  with 
closed  eyes,  breathing  rapidly.  Suddenly  she  raised  herself 
again,  and  looked  at  Frau  von  Eaben,  her  large  brown  eyes 
blazing  with  an  angry  scorn. 

6  Madame  de  Bonneval !  I  want  Madame  de  Bonneval ! 
She  is  a  good  woman,  and  she  will  understand.  But  you 
— you  are  a  devil !  What  was  it  Lino  said  ?  "  Men  want 
good  women  in  the  world."  Ah,  but  I  am  not  good  any 
more ' 

She  broke  off  suddenly,  and  began  to  sob  convulsively. 
Frau  von  Eaben  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  in  bewilder- 
ment, and,  turning,  hurried  to  the  door  in  order  to  sum- 
mon Ersilia  or  the  nurse.  She  saw  the  latter  sitting  by  an 
open  window  at  the  end  of  a  long  passage  outside  the  room 
Diana  occupied. 


DONNA   DIANA  221 

'  I  fear  Donna  Diana  is  not  so  well/  she  called  to  her. 
'  I  have  been  sitting  with  her,  and  suddenly  she  became  ter- 
ribly excited.  You  had  better  go  to  her  at  once/ 

Sister  Agnese  looked  very  grave. 

'I  hope  she  has  not  been  talking  too  much/  she  said. 
(  Her  temperature  was  scarcely  above  normal  when  I  left 
her,  but  anything  that  excited  her  would  send  it  up,  and 
might  bring  on  a  relapse/ 

She  hurried  to  Diana's  room,  followed  by  Frau  von 
Eaben,  and  when  they  reached  it  they  found  Diana  talking 
wildly  to  herself. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  modern  substitute  for  the  cavaliere  servente  in  Rome 
enjoys  an  office  that  cannot,  assuredly,  be  called  a  sine- 
cure. 

Who  of  us,  happening  to  explore  the  by-paths  of  Roman 
society,  has  not  been  struck  with  the  infinite  patience  of  the 
genus — a  patience  irresistibly  calling  to  mind  the  long- 
sufferance  of  that  other  creature  whose  loves — at  least  in 
Italy — are  popularly  supposed  to  kindle  in  the  month  of 
May  ?  Who  among  us,  again,  has  not  wondered  at  the  dis- 
cipline to  which  Tizio  or  Caio  is  subjected  by  his  mistress 
— pitied  him  for  being  obliged  to  follow  her  to  tea-parties, 
to  receptions,  to  so-called  charity  balls,  her  tickets  for  which 
he  has  to  pay  as  well  as  his  own  ? 

The  Countess  Verini  was  no  exception  to  the  generality 
of  those  ladies  in  Rome  who  find  a  husband  insufficient 
to  their  needs  and  requirements.  To  be  sure,  Count  Verini, 
instead  of  living  with  his  wife  and  Marco  Savelli,  preferred, 
as  Monsieur  de  Villebois  had  been  careful  to  explain  to 
Edmund  Vane  shortly  after  the  latter  had  made  her  ac- 
quaintance, to  reside  in  Persia  or  Japan,  although  there 
was  really  no  necessity  for  his  doing  so — at  any  rate,  so 
far  as  Rome  was  concerned.  Having  her  cavaliere  servente, 
Countess  Verini  took  very  good  care  that  he  should  serve 
her  out  of  doors  as  well  as  in.  She  did  not  care  to  afficlier 
herself  with  him  to  any  great  extent  in  society,  and  thus 
Marco  Savelli  was  saved  from  the  necessity  to  trot  about 
Rome  at  her  heels,  a  walking  advertisement  of  his  mistress's 
charms,  in  the  same  way  that  others  in  his  position  were 
compelled  to  do. 

There  was  a  very  good  reason,  indeed,  why  neither  of 
them  desired  that  their  relations  towards  each  other  should 


DONNA   DIANA  223 

be  too  much  criticised.  Cardinal  Savelli  would  not,  per- 
haps, have  felt  called  upon  to  protest  otherwise  than  of- 
ficially, should  the  fact  that  his  nephew  had  a  liaison  with 
a  married  woman  reach  his  ears.  But,  were  the  Cardinal 
once  to  suspect  that  the  liaison  was  of  a  somewhat  costly 
nature,  he  might  consider  it  to  be  his  duty  to  regard  the 
matter  from  a  moral  point  of  view,  and  pecuniary  complica- 
tions might  arise  in  consequence. 

The  news  of  Diana's  illness  had  come  as  an  unpleasant 
surprise  both  to  Countess  Verini  and  Marco.  So  far  mat- 
ters had  been  progressing  fairly  favourably  towards  the 
realization  of  their  scheme.  Monsignor  Tomei  had  proved 
himself  to  be  an  invaluable  coadjutor,  for  not  only  had  he 
succeeded  in  convincing  Cardinal  Savelli  that  it  would  be 
an  admirable  thing  for  Diana  to  endow  with  her  fortune 
the  convent  she  was  about  to  enter,  but  he  had  actually  been 
able  to  place  before  the  Cardinal  a  proposition  whereby  her 
capital  might  remain  undisturbed  until  three  years  should 
have  elapsed  from  the  time  of  the  pronouncement  of  her 
final  vows  as  a  cloistered  nun. 

Marco  Savelli  had  not  deemed  it  either  necessary  or 
prudent  to  inquire  too  particularly  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
arguments  used  by  Monsignor  Tomei  to  persuade  the  Car- 
dinal as  to  the  advantages  of  the  proposal  in  question.  In- 
deed, as  the  monsignore  had  given  him  to  understand, 
Cardinal  Savelli  had  not  as  yet  definitely  consented  to  the 
scheme ;  but  Monsignor  Tomei  also  hinted  that  it  was  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  His  Eminence  to  delay  as  long  as  pos- 
sible the  moment  when  he  should  be  obliged  to  pay  over 
to  his  ward  her  million  of  francs.  He  had,  further,  pointed 
out  that  as,  in  any  case,  the  convent  which  Donna  Diana 
finally  entered  would  expect  to  see  her  dot,  the  Cardinal 
would  almost  certainly  recognise  the.  advantages  of  con- 
cluding negotiations  which  he,  Monsignor  Tomei,  in  his 
capacity  of  financial  adviser  to  a  convent  willing  to  re- 
ceive Donna  Diana  on  the  terms  mentioned,  was  empowered 
to  arrange. 

Monsignor  Tomei's  hopeful  view  of  the  situation  had 


224:  DONNA   DIANA 

relieved  Marco's  mind  considerably.  To  say  the  truth,  he 
was  terribly  in  need  of  a  little  ready  money,  and,  between 
pressure  on  the  part  of  his  creditors  and  reproaches  on  the 
part  of  Laura  Verini  for  not  enabling  her  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  her  own  creditors,  life  had  of  late  become  decid- 
edly difficult. 

Countess  Verini's  influence  over  Marco  had  increased  not 
a  little  in  the  course  of  the  last  year  or  so.  She  knew  how 
to  humour  him,  and  she  never  made  him  jealous,  even  when 
she  stroked  poets'  hands.  He  had  become  accustomed  to 
his  life  with  her,  and  custom  counts  for  a  good  deal  in  un- 
lawful as  well  as  in  lawful  love.  Lately,  however,  it  had 
become  evident  to  Marco  Savelli  that,  if  harmony  was  to 
reign  between  himself  and  Laura,  he  must  assist  her  to 
clear  herself  from  certain  pecuniary  entanglements  which 
threatened  to  become  serious.  Count  Verini,  it  is  true, 
made  his  wife  a  very  fair  allowance  with  which  to  conduct 
her  establishment  during  his  absence.  But  Countess  Verini 
was  of  too  artistic  a  temperament  to  trouble  herself  much 
about  economy,  and  rarely  paid  a  bill  if  she  could  possibly 
avoid  doing  so. 

As  long  as  it  had  seemed  probable  that  Monsignor  Tomei 
would  succeed  in  persuading  Cardinal  Savelli  of  the  ad- 
vantages of  dealing  with  Diana's  capital  in  the  manner 
suggested,  Marco  had  been  comparatively  easy  in  his  mind. 
He  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  promise  Countess  Verini  that 
if  she  could  find  means  of  inducing  her  more  pressing  cred- 
itors to  wait  until  the  autumn,  he  would  then  be  in  a  posi- 
tion to  prove  to  her  the  genuineness  of  his  devotion.  Once 
the  manipulation  of  the  capital  in  question  were  confided 
to  Monsignor  Tomei,  he  had  little  doubt  of  being  able  to 
divert  a  portion  of  it  to  his  own  uses,  for  Monsignor  Tomei 
and  he  now  understood  one  another  admirably,  and  neither 
would  feel  it  necessary  to  enter  into  embarrassing  ex- 
planations. 

But  Frau  von  Raben's  reports  as  to  the  possibility  of  a 
change  occurring  in  Diana's  mind  had  disquieted  Marco 
considerably.  The  only  possible  cause  for  such  symptoms 


DONNA   DIANA  225 

as  Frau  von  Raben  believed  that  she  discovered  in  Diana 
must  be  attributed  to  her  having  been  conscious  of  Vane's 
admiration  for  her.  Of  this  Marco  felt  perfectly  sure; 
and  his  hatred  of  the  Englishman  whom  his  brother  had  in- 
troduced into  Palazzo  San  Eocco  increased  accordingly, 
as  well  as  his  anger  against  Lino. 

That  in  some  way  or  another  influences  were  at  work  to 
keep  alive  in  Diana's  heart  any  impression  Vane  might 
have  made  upon  it,  Marco  felt  not  the  slightest  doubt ;  and 
his  suspicions  once  aroused,  he  had  determined  to  find  out 
whether  or  not  they  were  justified.  He  would  certainly 
have  Vane  watched.  Such  manoeuvres  were  not  unknown  in 
Eome,  and  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  find  persons  in  the 
city  who,  once  their  man  were  pointed  out  to  them,  would 
follow  him  like  sleuth-hounds. 

He  had  communicated  this  idea  both  to  Monsignor  Tomei 
and  to  Laura  Verini,  and  they  had  urged  him  to.  put  it  into 
practice  without  delay.  To  Monsignor  Tomei,  indeed,  the 
plan  had  specially  commended  itself,  and  he  had  been  able 
to  suggest  an  individual  who  might  be  trusted  to  '  shadow ' 
a  suspected  person  without  fear  of  detection. 

i  At  least/  the  priest  had  observed,  ( we  shall  find  out 
what  this  foreigner  does  with  himself,  even  if  we  find  out 
nothing  else.  Foreigners  are  apt  to  go  in  search  of  very 
strange  adventures  in  Rome,'  he  added  significantly,  e  and 
more  than  one  has  lost  his  life  under — well,  under  cir- 
cumstances into  which  his  relatives  found  it  advisable  not 
to  insist  upon  too  close  an  inquiry.  We  must  find  out  his 
tastes.  It  is  tolerably  sure  that  he  will  have  tastes  of  some 
kind  or  other/ 

'  And  if  they  turn  out  to  be  altogether  harmless  ? '  in- 
quired Marco. 

Monsignore  slightly  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  But  they  must  not  turn  out  to  be  harmless/  he  said 
briefly. 

Marco  Savelli  smiled. 

'I  see,'  he  replied.  fl  had  thought  of  that  mysell  It 
is  a  good  way/ 


226  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Oh/  returned  Monsignor  Tomei, '  it  is  a  very  good  way. 
I  told  you  so  before,  Don  Marco,  if  you  remember/ 

Diana  Savelli's  unexpected  illness  had  to  a  certain  extent 
upset  Marco's  calculations,  and  this  in  a  manner  which 
neither  he  nor  Monsignor  Tomei  could  have  foreseen.  There 
was,  indeed,  every  reason  to  believe  that  Diana  would  re- 
cover from  it.  The  reports  from  Palazzo  San  Rocco  had 
hitherto  been  favourable  to  this  supposition;  for  the  pe- 
riods of  fever  had  sensibly  decreased,  and,  though  it  had 
risen  at  night,  Cardinal  Savelli  had  been  informed  that  on 
the  last  two  mornings  his  niece's  temperature  had  scarcely 
been  above  the  normal  thirty-seven  degrees.  The  doctor, 
however,  would  by  no  means  admit  all  danger  to  be  passed, 
since  there  had  been  no  signs  as  yet  of  anything  like  a  crisis 
having  been  overcome  by  his  patient.  The  fever  had  not 
yet  had  time  to  run  its  course,  and,  for  another  ten  days  at 
least,  the  tendency  to  relapse,  so  common  in  typhoid,  would 
have  to  be  carefully  guarded  against. 

The  extent  to  which  Cardinal  Savelli  had  been  affected 
by  Diana's  illness  had  first  of  all  surprised  and  then 
alarmed  Marco.  He  had  described  it  to  Frau  von  Raben 
as  pathetic;  but,  as  the  days  went  on,  he  could  not  fail  to 
observe  that  his  uncle  was  distressing  himself  more  deeply 
than  Diana's  comparatively  satisfactory  condition  would 
naturally  account  for.  That  this  should  be  so  perplexed 
Marco  considerably,  and  his  perplexity  gave  way  to-  uneasi- 
ness and  alarm  at  certain  remarks  which  his  uncle  more 
than  once  let  fall  in  the  course  of  their  conversation  to- 
gether about  Diana. 

It  had  almost  seemed  as  if  Cardinal  Savelli  were  doubt- 
ful in  his  own  mind  as  to  the  justice  of  allowing  his  niece 
to  take  the  veil  while  she  was  as  yet  so  ignorant  of  the  world 
she  wished  to  renounce.  More  than  once  he  recurred  to  the 
subject  of  Diana's  youth  and  beauty,  to  the  happy  life  she 
might  have  led  in  the  world  with  a  husband  and  children, 
and  he  would  sigh  deeply,  as  though  reproaching  himself 
for  the  part  he  had  taken  in  encouraging  her  idea. 

Marco  had  not  failed  to  inform  Monsignor  Tomei  of  the 


DONNA   DIANA  227 

Cardinal's  attitude,  and  he  had  at  once  seen  that  the  former 
was  seriously  impressed  by  what  he  heard. 

'His  Eminence  is  a  man  of  impulses/  he  said,  shaking 
his  head.  ( I  have  often  noticed/  he  continued,  looking  at 
Marco  furtively, '  that,  in  his  case,  the  Prince  of  the  Church 
has  not  wholly  absorbed  the  aristocrat  of  the  world.  It  is 
very  natural.  Your  uncle  has  lived,  Don  Marco — oh  yes,  he 
has  certainly  lived  in  his  time — and  the  old  instincts  are 
strong.  After  all,  one  can  understand  his  regrets  at  Donna 
Diana's  decision,  from  a  worldly  point  of  view.  Her  beauty, 
I  am  told,  is  marvellous,  and  it  seems  a  pity  that  it  should 
be  wasted/ 

'  But  we  cannot  venture  to  oppose  the  manifest  will  of 
God/  said  Marco. 

(  Certainly  not ! '  replied  Monsignor  Tomei,  rubbing  his 
hands  gently  together  as  he  spoke.  'Most  certainly  not! 
His  Eminence,  however,  will  not  need  to  be  reminded  of 
that  by  us.  His  own  sense  of  what  is  due  to  Almighty  God 
— of  what  is  due  to  the  Church — will  cause  him  to  banish 
from  his  mind  any  worldly  considerations  regarding  Donna 
Diana.  But  I  am  glad  you  have  mentioned  this  fact,  Don 
Marco.  His  Eminence  sometimes  does  me  the  honour  to 
listen  to  my  opinions,  although  I  am  only  a  humble  priest. 
It  is  possible  that  I  may  be  able  to  calm  his  misgivings/ 

e  They  will  pass/  said  Marco  a  little  contemptuously. 
( Money  considerations  outweigh  sentiment,  in  the  long- 
run.  And  you  say,  monsignore/  he  added  suddenly,  e  that 
it  would  not  be  at  all  convenient  to  my  uncle  to  produce 
Donna  Diana's  capital.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  cleared  his  throat  noisily,  and  then 
took  a  liberal  pinch  of  snuff. 

'  No/  he  said  slowly,  '  it  would  certainly  not  be  conve- 
nient. Indeed,  I  do  not  think  His  Eminence  quite  realizes 
how  inopportune  it  would  be.  He  is  careless  about  money 
matters.  There,  again,  his  class  and  training  assert  them- 
selves. Our  Eomans  of  the  aristocrazia  have  always  con- 
sidered it  to  be  beneath  their  dignity  to  regard  such 
things.' 


228  DONNA   DIANA 

'  I  have  never  asked  you  why  it  would  be  inconvenient  to 
produce  the  money  ? '  observed  Marco  Savelli. 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him  calmly.  He  had  been 
expecting  the  question — for  a  question  he  felt  it  to  be — 
for  some  time. 

'  That  is  a  matter  I  could  not  fully  explain/  he  answered, 
'  without  betraying  His  Eminence's  confidence.  I  think, 
however,  that  I  may  give  you  some  idea  of  how  the  Cardinal 
is  situated — strictly  between  ourselves,  of  course.  Some 
time  ago — indeed  it  is  now  some  years  ago — His  Emi- 
nence, in  his  desire  to  prove  a  faithful  steward  of  Donna 
Diana's  fortune,  was  prevailed  upon  to  invest  a  portion  of 
it  in  securities  at  that  moment  returning  a  considerably 
higher  rate  of  interest  than  was  being  then  obtained.  He 
was  ill-advised — very  ill-advised.  Payment  of  interest  was 
virtually  suspended,  and  the  shares  owned  by  His  Eminence 
have  long  since  become  unsaleable.  The  money  is  not  lost, 
for  there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  in  a  few  years'  time 
it  will  prove  to  have  been  well  invested.  But,  in  the  mean- 
while, it  is  so  much  capital  locked  up.  Your  uncle  natu- 
rally reproaches  himself  for  having  been  led  into  what 
might  be  regarded  as  speculating  with  his  ward's  fortune ; 
and  I  may  say  that,  had  I  then  been  his  adviser  in  such 
matters,  I  should  have  dissuaded  him  from  doing  so.  More 
recently  His  Eminence  was  obliged  to  borrow  from  Donna 
Diana's  money  for  an  object  which  is  already  well  known 
to  you/  concluded  Monsignor  Tomei. 

f  Of  course/  said  Marco  hurriedly.  '  That  was  purely  a 
family  matter;  and  my  cousin,  when  the  circumstances 
were  explained  to  her,  was  quite  willing  that  a  small  sum 
should  be  advanced  from  her  fortune.' 

'  The  consent  of  a  minor  does  not  hold  good/  observed 
Monsignor  Tomei ;  ( but  it  was,  as  you  say,  a  family  affair. 
Donna  Diana,  however,  could,  on  attaining  her  majority, 
legally  demand  the  payment  of  her  fortune  intact — plus  the 
interest  accumulated  during  her  minority — were  she  dis- 
posed to  do  so,  or  were  others,  acting  on  her  behalf,  to  ad- 
vance the  claim.  The  question  is:  How  could  His  Emi- 


DONNA    DIANA  229 

nence  find  a  million  and  some  hundred  thousands  of 
francs  ?  And  if  he  could  not  produce  the  sum,  what  would 
be  said  ? ' 

Marco  Savelli  hesitated  for  a  moment  or  two  before 
replying. 

'  There  have  been  no  other  unfortunate  investments 
made.,  I  suppose/  he  asked,  '  and  no  further  money  bor- 
rowed from  my  cousin's  capital  than  the  sum  we  already 
know  of  ? ' 

The  tones  of  his  voice  were  full  of  suspicion,  and  he 
looked  at  Monsignor  Tomei  searchingly.  The  latter  re- 
turned his  gaze  unflinchingly. 

'  Most  decidedly  not/  he  replied.  ( I  am  surprised  at 
the  suggestion,  Don  Marco/ 

'  I  did  not  know/  returned  Marco  somewhat  confusedly. 
i  You  say  that  my  uncle  is  so  careless  about  money  matters 
— that  he  does  not  understand  them,  in  short/ 

'  If  the  money  were  not  forthcoming/  pursued  Mon- 
signor Tomei,  without  noticing  Marco's  remark,  '  people 
would  undoubtedly  say  that  His  Eminence  had  made  away 
with  it — a  most  unworthy  suspicion,  and  one  which  His 
Eminence  would  naturally  make  any  sacrifice  to  avoid  in- 
curring. Happily,  however,  no  sacrifice  need  be  made  on 
your  uncle's  part  save  that  of  resigning  himself  to  welcome 
the  destiny  our  Lord,  in  His  wisdom,  has  allotted  to  Donna 
Diana,  if  it  be  His  will  that  she  be  restored  to  health/ 

'  In  fact/  said  Marco,  '  he  must  be  shown  that  pecuniary 
considerations,  as  I  said  just  now,  outweigh  sentiment/ 

His  black  eyes  were  fixed  on  Monsignor  Tomei  with  an 
expression  in  which  a  half-humorous  contempt  was  scarcely 
concealed,  and  the  latter  was  conscious  of  it.  Monsignor 
Tomei  was  in  error,  however,  in  attributing  this  expression 
to  any  disgust  that  Marco  might  feel  at  his  dishonesty.  It 
was  the  contempt  of  the  ex-seminarist  for  the  hypocrisy  of 
the  priest. 

'  It  is  scarcely  a  pecuniary  question/  Monsignor  Tomei 
said  quietly ;  '  but  rather  a  question  of  honour,  and  honour, 
at  least,  is  of  more  importance  than  sentiment.  Leaving 


230  DONNA   DIANA 

aside  the  spiritual  aspect  of  the  affair,  His  Eminence  would 
have  no  reason  to  fear  any  call  being  made  upon  him  to 
produce  Donna  Diana's  capital  by  the  time  she  attained 
her  majority.  It  would  only  be  in  the  case  of  immediate 
necessity  to  pay  over  that  he  would  find  himself  embar- 
rassed. And  this  immediate  necessity,  Don  Marco,  could 
only  arise  in  the  event  of  marriage  settlements  having  to 
be  made.  Of  course,  if  Donna  Diana  should  choose  to  marry 
a  man  sufficiently  in  love  with  her  to  waive  all  claim  to 
her  fortune  until  she  was  of  age,  matters  would  be  perfectly 
simple  so  far  as  your  uncle  is  concerned.  But  the  spiritual 
side  of  the  question  is  very  different.  It  would  be  a 
grievous  sin  to  throw  obstacles  in  Donna  Diana's  way,  as 
she  has  elected  to  devote  herself  to  religion.' 

'  Quite  so,'  agreed  Marco.  '  The  obstacles  must,  on  the 
contrary,  be  removed.  I  will  be  quite  open  with  you,  mon- 
signore.  There  appear  to  me  to  be  two  obstacles:  one  of 
them  is  this  infernal  foreigner,  and  the  other,  I  begin  to 
suspect,  will  be  my  uncle's  strange  hesitation  in  continuing 
to  encourage  Diana  to  pursue  the  path  she  has  chosen.  As 
for  the  Englishman,  of  course,  he  wants  her  money,  and, 
as  we  know,  it  is  to  my  brother  Lino's  interest  to  help  him 
to  get  it/ 

'  It  should  not  be  difficult  to  dispose  of  the  Englishman/ 
observed  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  Socially,  if  possible ;  if  not, 
there  are  other  ways/ 

'But  my  uncle?  If,  in  his  present  state  of  mind,  he 
thought  Diana  was  in  love,  or  even  doubtful  as  to  her  voca- 
tion, he  might  persuade  himself  that  it  was  his  duty  to  give 
her  opportunities  of  changing  her  intentions.' 

'  My  dear  Don  Marco,'  replied  Monsignor  Tomei  suavely, 
'we  must  protect  His  Eminence  from  himself,  by  which 
I  mean  that  we  must  protect  him  from  listening  to  the 
dictates  of  his  worldly  nature,  and  remind  him  of  his  duty 
as  a  Prince  c4  the  Church.  I  shall  take  an  early  oppor- 
tunity of  going  to  see  him.  Indeed,  I  must  do  so,  for  I 
have  several  matters  of  business  to  discuss  with  him,  among 
others  the  proposals  of  this  convent  which  it  has  been  sug- 


DONNA   DIANA  231 

gested  that  Donna  Diana  Savelli  should  join.  I  think 
you  may  safely  leave  me  to  deal  with  this  obstacle.  Of 
course,  you  will  not  neglect  opportunities  you  may  have 
of  reasoning  with  His  Eminence  as  to  the  spiritual  risks 
of  interfering  with  anything  so  sacred  as  a  young  person's 
vocation  for  religion.  As  to  the  other  obstacle,  I  think 
I  may  safely  leave  it  to  you  to  deal  with.  You  will  find 
the  man  whose  services  I  recommend  thoroughly  compe- 
tent. He  possesses,,  moreover,  a  knowledge  of  the  mala  vita 
of  this  misgoverned  city  that  may  be  useful  should  it  be- 
come expedient  to — well,  to  compromise  your  brother's 
friend.  A  little  money  may  be  necessary,  but  in  Rome  a 
great  deal  can  be  accomplished  for  a  hundred  francs.' 

Marco  Savelli  repeated  the  drift  of  this  conversation 
with  Monsignor  Tomei  to  Countess  Verini. 

'•Of  course  Vane  wants  the  girl's  money/  she  observed, 
'  and  he  will  get  it  too,  what  is  left  of  it,  unless  you  are 
careful,  Marco.  It  would  be  interesting  to  know  how  much 
she  really  thinks  of  him,  though  what  there  is  to  think 
about  heaven  only  knows ! ' 

6  You  never  liked  him,'  said  Marco. 

f  I !  Imagine  if  I  liked  him  !  A  perfect  bear !  One  does 
not  expect  good  manners  from  English  people,  but  I  asked 
him  here  to  my  evenings.  He  came  twice,  I  think,  or  three 
times ;  and  never  came  again.  That  is  ridiculous  when  one 
receives  nearly  every  evening  in  the  week.  But  you  must 
be  cautious,  Marco.  He  has  many  friends  in  Rome,  and 
Lino  is  more  popular  than  you  are.' 

'How  can  Diana  think  much  about  him,'  replied 
Marco,  '  unless,  indeed,  there  has  been  something  going  on 
which  we  know  nothing  about  ? ' 

*  It  is  to  be  hoped  she  does  think  about  him,'  said  Laura 
Verini. 

(  Why  ? '  asked  Marco  wonderingly.  '  That  is  just  what 
we  want  to  prevent.' 

Countess  Verini  smiled. 

'  I  always  said  you  were  dense,'  she  returned,  e  and  you 
don't  understand  women.' 


232  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Oh,  I  don't  understand  women.  At  all  events,  I  under- 
stand you,  Laura/ 

t  Do  you  ? '  she  asked,  laughing.  '  Then  you  are  cleverer 
than  I  thought.  I  do  not  understand  myself.  What 
woman  does  ?  As  for  your  cousin  Diana,  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  she  thinks  Vane  a  hero — a  demigod,  if  you  will.  The 
higher  the  pedestal  upon  which  she  has  set  him  in  her 
imagination,  the  more  angry  and  disillusioned  she  will  be 
when  he  tumbles  off  it.  And  you  must  so  arrange  that 
his  fall  shall  be  severe,  Marco — such  a  fall  that  it  will  not 
be  easy  for  him  to  pick  himself  up  again.  The  girl  will 
be  disgusted,  and,  what  is  perhaps  of  more  importance,  the 
Cardinal  will  be  cured  of  any  sentimental  ideas  he  may 
have  developed  regarding  her  love  affair/ 

( It  will  be  quite  interesting/  said  Marco,  with  a  short 
laugh. 

'  Of  course,  it  will  be  interesting.  It  is  generally  interest- 
ing to  take  away  people's  characters.  In  the  present  instance 
it  will  also  be  profitable.  But  there  is  one  thing  which 
rather  puzzles  me,  Marco.  Are  you  quite  sure  of  Monsignor 
Tomei  ?  Eemember  that  he  is  a  priest.  There  are  priests 
and  priests,  of  course,  but  we  know  the  type  to  which  Tomei 
belongs.  What  guarantee  have  you  that,  while  professing  to 
work  for  you,  he  may  not  be  working  against  you  ? ' 

6  The  man  is  a  mascalzone'  replied  Marco.  '  It  has  been 
a  mere  question  of  making  it  worth  his  while.  Promises 
are  cheap  things  to  make,  and  when  we  have  done  with  him 
we  can  get  rid  of  him.  I  know  something  about  him.  He 
is  scarcely  in  the  odour  of  sanctity  in  Apostolic  circles; 
but  he  has  been  useful,  so  he  is  left  alone/ 

6  In  what  way  useful  ? '  asked  Countess  Verini. 

'  He  has  a  ready  pen/  answered  Marco,  '  and  has  served 
as  a  decoy — oh,  not  for  souls,  but  for  soldi.  Tomei  is  a 
peasant — nothing  more  nor  less;  but  he  has  the  peasant's 
shrewdness,  and  has  acquired  a  certain  education  that  en- 
ables him  to  appeal  to  his  class.  It  is  fortunate  for  the 
Vatican  that  it  has  such  servants.  Men  like  Tomei  can 
so  easily  be  disgraced  and  their  services  disowned  when 
they  become  too  prominent/ 


CHAPTER  XX 

To  Edmund  Vane's  intense  relief,  Lino  Savelli  returned 
from  Turin  some  days  sooner  than  he  had  expected  would 
be  the  case. 

Since  he  had  first  learned  of  Diana's  illness,  Edmund 
had  several  times  received  news  of  her  condition,  and  on 
two  occasions  the  old  porter  of  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  had 
been  the  bearer.  The  latter  had  evidently  been  on  the 
watch  for  him,  and  had  pursued  the  same  tactics — affect- 
ing not  to  see  him  when  Edmund  passed  through  the  piazza 
opposite  the  palace,  but  following  him  until  he  had  turned 
down  the  narrow  by-street  beyond  it. 

The  suspicion  that  his  movements  were  being  watched 
had  made  Vane  very  careful  as  to  his  proceedings.  The 
day  after  Ersilia's  letter  to  Lino  had  been  consigned  to  him 
by  Antonio,  he  had  passed  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco  at  the 
same  hour,  keeping  a  keen  watch  to  see  if  he  were  again 
followed  by  the  individual  who  had  appeared  to  be  '  shad- 
owing '  him.  He  saw  nothing  of  the  latter,  however,  and, 
to  his  satisfaction,  Antonio  was  sitting  at  the  gateway  of 
the  palace  evidently  expecting  that  he  should  pass. 

As  the  reports  of  Diana  were  fairly  satisfactory,  and  it 
was  clear  that  her  life  was  in  no  immediate  danger,  Edmund 
had  given  Antonio  his  address,  adding  in  a  few  hurried 
words  that  it  would  be  safer  to  communicate  with  him  by 
post,  at  any  rate,  until  Don  Michelangelo  should  return  to 
Rome.  At  the  same  time  he  had  pressed  into  the  old  man's 
hand  a  couple  of  banknotes  of  a  hundred  francs  each,  bid- 
ding him  give  one  of  them  to  Ersilia  and  retain  the  other 
for  himself. 

For  the  last  few  days  Edmund  had  heard  nothing.  Be- 
coming uneasy  in  his  mind,  he  had  several  times  bent  his 

233 


234:  DONNA   DIANA 

steps  in  the  direction  of  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  and  had 
lingered  for  as  long  as  he  dared  in  the  immediate  vicinity. 
But  Antonio  had  always  been  invisible,  and  Edmund  was 
fain  to  content  himself  with  the  thought  that  no  news  was 
probably  good  news. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois,  indeed,  had  undertaken  to  try  to 
find  out  the  truth  about  Donna  Diana  Savelli's  illness,  but 
even  he  had  been  able  to  gather  no  particulars  beyond  the 
fact,  generally  known  in  the  houses  he  visited,  that  Princess 
San  Rocco's  niece  was  suffering  from  a  mild  attack  of 
typhoid  fever.  As  Diana  was  only  known  to  the  Roman 
world  by  reputation  as  being  singularly  lovely  and  very 
devote,  nobody  took  any  great  interest  in  her  illness.  Prob- 
ably nobody  would  have  taken  any  at  all  were  it  not  for  the 
gossip  which  had  circulated  concerning  Vane's  alleged  at- 
tempt to  secure  her  affections.  The  disseminators  of  this 
gossip,  however,  had,  according  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois, 
somewhat  defeated  their  own  ends  by  insisting  too  much 
upon  Diana  Savelli's  contemptuous  indifference  to  any- 
thing so  worldly  as  love.  A  few  people,  certainly,  had  been 
roused  to  virtuous  indignation  by  the  insinuation  that 
Michelangelo  Savelli's  English  friend  had  bribed  him  to 
second  his  attempts  to  induce  Diana  to  renounce  the  cloister 
for  matrimony ;  but  these  were  for  the  most  part  the  profes- 
sionally pious,  or  elderly  ladies  nourishing  a  secret  passion 
for  a  favourite  confessor,  and  ever  ready,  therefore,  to 
exercise  the  gift  of  tongues  in  defence  of  the  Church.  The 
majority  smiled,  and  talked  of  Diana  Savelli's  dot,  while 
the  cynical  contented  themselves  with  observing  that  Lino 
Savelli  and  his  friend  were  fighting  the  priests  over  a  girl's 
money;  the  odds  were  largely  in  favour  of  the  priests. 

A  letter  Vane  had  received  from  Lino,  in  which  the  latter 
announced  that  he  would  return  to  Rome  in  a  few  days' 
time,  determined  him  to  wait  patiently  without  attempting 
to  learn  any  further  details  from  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 

One  thing  at  least  afforded  Edmund  a  certain  degree  of 
satisfaction.  He  had  never  again  beheld  the  individual 
whom  he  had  suspected  of  dogging  his  footsteps.  He  had 


DONNA   DIANA  235 

walked  about  as  usual,  by  night  as  well  as  by  day,  but 
though  he  had  been  constantly  on  his  guard,  nothing  had 
occurred  further  to  arouse  his  suspicions.  He  had  finally 
dismissed  the  matter  from  his  mind  as  a  mere  coincidence ; 
nor  did  he  even  remember  to  mention  it  to  Lino  Savelli 
when  the  latter,  immediately  upon  his  return  to  Rome,  came 
to  see  him. 

Vane  gathered  from  Lino  that  he  had  heard  twice  from 
Princess  San  Rocco  after  Diana  had  been  taken  ill,  the 
second  letter  being  merely  to  tell  him  that  as  his  cousin 
was  going  on  so  well,  and  the  typhoid  fever  was  of  so  mild 
a  character,  she  should  not  write  again.  Prince  San  Rocco 
had  also  written  to  his  nephew — a  rare  occurrence,  and  one 
that  caused  Lino  some  surprise.  It  was  evident  to  him, 
from  the  tone  of  the  latter  epistle,  that  the  Prince  was  not 
entirely  satisfied  about  Diana..  He  did  not  dwell  much 
upon  her  illness,  and  clearly  regarded  it  as  not  affording 
cause  for  more  anxiety  than  any  attack  of  typhoid,  however 
slight,  must  necessarily  give.  But  Lino,  who  knew  his 
uncle  well,  was  able  to  read  between  the  lines  of  his  letter, 
and  to  gather  that  he  had  some  misgivings  in  his  mind  as 
to  whether  or  not  Diana  were  really  as  happy  and  contented 
in  her  mind  as  she  was  declared  to  be. 

The  Prince's  language  was  guarded  enough.  No  men- 
tion of  Vane,  or  allusion  to  him,  occurred  in  the  letter, 
but  more  than  once  the  writer  expressed  his  doubts  as  to 
whether  his  niece's  desire  to  enter  a  convent  were  not  some- 
what unnatural  in  a  girl  of  her  age  and  temperament,  and 
whether  she  would  not  have  been  happier  fulfilling  the  or- 
dinary duties  of  a  woman's  life. 

Lino  had  smiled  to  himself  as  he  read  this.  It  was  ex- 
actly what  he  had  suggested 'to  his  uncle  when  Diana  re- 
turned from  the  Sacre  Coaur.  He  wondered  what  had  taken 
place  since  he  had  been  at  Palazzo  San  Rocco  to  cause  the 
Prince  to  admit  the  possibility  of  a  cloistered  life  being 
an  unnatural  state  of  existence  for  a  young  girl.  Had 
Diana's  meeting  with  Vane  produced  a  more  rapid  change 
in  her  sentiments  than  he  and.  Eddie  had  ever  dared  ex- 


236  DONNA   DIANA 

pect  or  even  to  hope  ?  This  was  what  Lino  longed  to  ascer- 
tain, though,  unless  he  could  see  Diana  herself,  there  was 
little  chance  of  his  being  able  to  do  so. 

His  uncle's  letter,  however,  would  give  him  an  excellent 
excuse  for  going  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  since  at  the  end 
of  it  the  Prince  expressed  a  wish  that  he  would  come  to 
see  him  as  soon  as  he  returned  to  Rome.  Lino  showed  the 
letter  to  Vane,  who,  naturally  enough,  urged  him  to  lose 
no  time  in  going  to  see  its  writer. 

(  Find  out  all  you  can  for  me/  Edmund  said  to  him 
earnestly.  '  Perhaps/  he  added,  '  you  will  see  Donna 
Diana/  and  he  paused  hesitatingly. 

Lino  smiled. 

'  Be  assured  that  I  will  do  all  I  can,  Eddie/  he  replied. 
'  I  may  not  be  allowed'  to  see  Diana,  but,  at  any  rate,  I  shall 
see  my  Uncle  San  Rocco.  I  am  convinced  that  something 
must  have  happened  to  make  him  write  like  this.  As  long 
as  he  thought  Diana  was  contented  with  her  choice,  he 
would  hold  his  tongue,  for,  as  I  have  told  you,  we  do  not 
interfere  with  our  women  folk  in  their  religious  ideas.  To 
do  so  would  bring  the  priests  about  our  ears,  and  there 
would  very  quickly  be  domestic  storms — brewed  in  the 
sacristy  teapots.  My  uncle  is  very  well  aware  of  this,  and 
he  likes  a  quiet  life/ 

'But  he  would  not  tolerate  Donna  Diana  being  led  to 
take  such  a  step  as  she  proposes  without  being  convinced 
that  it  was  her  absolute  desire?'  asked  Vane. 

'  I  am  sure  that  he  would  not/  answered  Lino  quickly. 
(  My  uncle  is  fond  of  Diana,  and,  besides,  he  is  a  galan- 
tuomo.  Any  suspicion  of  coercion  or  of  undue  influence 
being  brought  to  bear  on  her  would  make  him  furious,  so, 
I  am  convinced,  it  would  my  aunt/ 

Vane  looked  doubtful,  and  did  not  reply,  while  Lino, 
who,  like  most  Italians,  was  quick  to  read  expressions  of 
countenance,  continued : 

'  My  aunt,  to  be  sure,  would  scarcely  credit  the  possibility 
of  such  a  thing,  and  neither  of  them  are  very  acute  observ- 
ers of  human  nature.  It  would  probably  never  strike  them 


DONNA   DIANA  237' 

that  Diana's  enthusiasm  for  the  convent  might  be  the  result 
of  suggestion.  My  aunt,  at  least,  would  naturally  prefer 
to  believe  it  to  be  the  effect  of  divine  inspiration/ 

'  And  the  Prince  ? '  asked  Edmund. 

'  Oh,  he  would  find  it  more  convenient  to  believe  the 
same  story.  He  would  probably  never  trouble  himself  to 
dispute  it,  unless  something  occurred  to  open  his  eyes  very 
wide  indeed/ 

'But  what  can  have  occurred — even  partially  to  have 
opened  his  eyes?'  demanded  Vane.  'Your  uncle's  letter 
implies  a  doubt  as  to  Donna  Diana's  happiness.  The  ques- 
tion is,  What  has  given  him  this  doubt  ?  ' 

e  Of  that  I  know  as  much,  or  as  little,  as  you  do,'  replied 
Lino.  'But  I  hope  to  find  out.  I  have  my  suspicions  as 
to  what  may  have  happened,  certainly.' 

'  And  what  are  they  ?  '  asked  Edmund  quickly. 

'  My  dear  Eddie,  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you,'  said  Lino 
smiling — '  not  yet,  at  all  events.  And  now  tell  me  some- 
thing of  Rome,  and  what  you  have  been  doing  since  I  left. 
Have  you  seen  much  of  your  friend,  De  Villebois  ? ' 

'  More  of  him  than  anybody  else,'  replied  Vane.  '  As 
for  what  Rome  has  been  doing,  I  do  not  think  there  is 
anything  new  to  tell  you  about  that.  If  I  am  to  believe  De 
Villebois,  it  has  been  telling  lies.' 

Lino  Savelli  laughed. 

'You  are  right,'  he  said;  'there  is  nothing  new  about 
that.  It  is  many  years  now  since  a  Roman  asked  what  truth 
was.  He  never  got  an  answer,  by  the  way.  But  the  sav- 
ing grace  of  a  Roman  lie  is  that  nobody  believes  it — except, 
perhaps,  old  English  ladies  in  the  Via  Gregoriana.' 

'  Don't  jeer  at  my  compatriots,  Lino ! '  said  Vane. 

'  I  don't  spare  my  own,  so  it  is  all  fair,'  returned  Lino. 
'  And  they  really  are  funny,  you  know,  your  old  ladies,  with 
their  caps,  and  their  pet  monsignori  whom  they  feed  dur- 
ing the  winter,  and  their  odd  ideas  about  Italy  and  the 
Italians!  I  remember  being  presented  to  one  of  them: 
Lady — Merton  ? — was  that  her  name  ?  Oh  la,  la !  I  was  in 
uniform,  and  she  looked  at  me  as  though  I  were  a  serpent, 


238  DONNA   DIANA 

then  she  asked  me  why  we  held  reviews  on  Sundays,  and 
asserted  that  we  did  so  in  order  to  prevent  our  soldiers  from 
going  to  Mass/ 

Vane  laughed. 

( You  must  not  judge  us  by  Lady  Merton  and  her  pious 
coterie/  he  said.  ( I  must  admit  they  are  peculiar,  and 
their  piety  occasionally  causes  them  to  forget  their  man- 
ners. It  is  strange  how  seldom  very  holy  people  have  a 
sense  of  humour.' 

6 And  what  is  the  latest  Eoman  story?'  asked  Lino. 

Edmund  glanced  at  him  for  a  moment  before  replying. 

'  Well,'  he  said,  '  it  regards  you  and  me,  Lino.  Kidicu- 
lous  nonsense,  of  course;  and  as  you  declare  that  nobody 
believes  lies  in  Eome,  though  a  good  many  people  tell 
them,  it  is  of  very  little  importance.  It  has  been  said 
that  I  have  made  it  worth  your  while  to  help  me  to  obtain 
Donna  Diana's  affection.' 

Lino  Savelli  looked  at  him  with  astonishment. 

'  Made  it  worth  my  while  ? '  he  repeated.  '  What  do 
you  mean,  Eddie?' 

'  Simply  that  in  consideration  of  a  sum  of  money  which 
I  am  to  pay  to  you  when  I  have  secured  your  cousin  and 
her  dot — or  which  has  been  paid — for,  of  course,  there 
are  two  versions  of  the  story — you  have  agreed  to  do  all 
in  your  power  to  turn  Donna  Diana  from  her  resolution 
to  enter  religion.  It  is  an  honourable  transaction,  is  it 
not  ? '  Vane  added,  with  a  quiet  laugh. 

Lino  uttered  an  exclamation  of  contempt,  and  his  eyes 
gleamed  with  anger.  He  bore  a  strange  likeness  at  that 
moment,  Edmund  thought,  to  his  cousin  Diana.  He  threw 
up  his  head  haughtily,  as  Vane  had  seen  Diana  do  more 
than  once. 

' Honourable?  Oh  yes,  no  doubt  it  is  honourable — 
according  to  the  conception  of  honour  existing  among 
those  who  have  started  the  story.  What  do  you  expect 
from  that  canaglia?' 

'But  how  do  you  know  who  started  it?'  inquired  Ed- 
mund. 


DONNA   DIANA  239 

Lino  Savelli  turned  sharply  towards  him. 

'  Do  you  not  know  ? '  he  asked  abruptly. 

<De  Villebois  told  me  the  story.  He  declares  that 
Countess  Verini  has  spread  it/ 

'  Countess  Verini  ?  Why  do  you  not  say  my  brother 
Marco  at  once,  Eddie?  It  is  the  same  thing/ 

'  It  does  not  signify  who  started  it,'  said  Vane.  '  No- 
body who  knows  you  or  me  will  believe  it.  But  I  thought 
I  had  better  tell  you,  all  the  same/ 

He  spoke  quietly,  with  all  an  Englishman's  indiffer- 
ence; the  more  so,  perhaps,  because  he  saw  that  Lino  was 
angry. 

'  You  did  well  to  tell  me/  said  Lino.  *  This  lie  has  been 
spread  abroad  by  my  brother's  friends.  Oh,  you  do  not 
yet  know  Eorae !  Those  who  cross  swords  with  the  priests 
must  expect  to  be  stabbed  in  the  back.  What  you  have  told 
me  explains  many  things.  I  always  suspected  that  it  was 
Diana's  money  they  wanted,  and  now  I  am  sure  of  it/ 

'  But  neither  you  nor  I  have  offended  the  priests/  said 
Vane ;  ( and,  even  if  we  had,  I  do  not  see  how  your  brother 
could  be  concerned/ 

'  Do  you  not  ?  Have  you  forgotten  that  the  Cardinal  is 
Diana's  guardian  ?  Marco,  who  is  more  clerical  than  many 
priests,  lives  not  only  with  him  but  on  him,  as  we  know. 
Those  who  are  working  through  both  Marco  and  my  uncle 
are  afraid  of  you,  Eddie,  and  they  hope  by  damaging  my 
reputation  to  damage  yours  also/ 

6 But  who  are  these  people? '  asked  Edmund,  ' and  what 
influence  can  they  have  over  Cardinal  Savelli  ?  I  can  un- 
derstand, of  course,  that  your  brother  may  be  under  various 
influences,  but  the  Cardinal ' 

'You  do  not  understand  us,  Eddie,'  interrupted  Lino 
Savelli.  'I  do  not  want  to  abuse  my  own  race,  but  our 
defect  is  love  of  money.  All  races  have  their  defects,  of 
course,  but  this  is  certainly  the  most  prominent  with  us. 
And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  we  are  apt  to  be  unscrupulous 
as  to  how  we  satisfy  that  love/ 

'  There  are  exceptions,'  said  Vane,  with  a  smile. 


240  DONNA    DIANA 

'  Certainly  there  are  exceptions — thousands  of  them,  and 
the  longer  you  live  with  us  the  more  of  them  you  will  find 
— especially  among  Romans.  But  have  you  never  observed 
that,  whereas  the  first  instinct  of  an  Englishman  is  to 
trust  a  compatriot,  the  first  instinct  of  an  Italian  is  to 
distrust  another  Italian  in  any  matter  in  which  money  is 
concerned?  That  is  very  remarkable,  and  it  is  also  in- 
structive/ 

'As  you  ask  me,  I  confess  I  have  noticed  it/  said 
Edmund ;  '  and  I  have  noticed,  also,  that  one  Italian  often 
appears  scarcely  to  wonder  at  or  resent  the  suspicions  of 
another.' 

{  He  frequently  takes  them  as  a  compliment  to  his  intel- 
ligence/ answered  Lino  dryly.  'But/  he  added  with  a 
sigh,  fc'  we  should  be  a  greater  nation  than  we  are  were  we 
able  to  trust  each  other,  for  then  others  would  trust  us. 
However,  do  not  let  us  discuss  these  things.  You  say 
that  you  do  not  see  how  you  and  I  have  crossed  swords 
with  the  priests.  Well,  I  have  always  done  so,  because 
I  cannot  pretend  to  believe  in  all  they  teach  when  I  don't 
believe  in  it;  and  though  I  respect  the  Church,  I  detest 
the  Vatican.  You  have  lived  long  enough  with  us  to 
realize  how  distinct  the  two  have  become  in  the  eyes  of 
every  thinking  Italian  whose  mind  is  free  from  hereditary 
superstitions/ 

'  And  I  ? '  asked  Edmund.  '  How  have  I  crossed  swords 
with  them?  The  Church  does  not  inspire  me  with  the 
same  respect  as  I  entertained  for  her  before  I  came  to 
Rome — that  is  certain.  How  could  it  be  otherwise?  But 
I  do  not  like  to  think  about  it,  and  still  less  to  discuss  it, 
except,  perhaps,  with  you.  Therefore,  as  I  do  not  talk 
about  it,  how  can  I  have  offended  the  priests?' 

'By  falling  in  love  with  Diana/  replied  Lino  curtly. 
'  They  have  watched  their  beautiful  peach  ripening — Diana 
really  does  resemble  a  ripe  peach,  by  the  way — for  so 
long,  and  preserved  it  so  carefully  from  harm,  that  you 
cannot  wonder  if  they  are  annoyed  at  a  greedy  bird  having 
got  under  the  net/ 


DONNA   DIANA  241 

'  And  angry  with  the  person  who  let  the  bird  in/  added 
Vane,  smiling. 

'  Exactly,  Eddie  !  And,  therefore,  the  usual  tactics  have 
been  resorted  to.  "  Calomniez  toujours.  II  en  restera 
ton  jours  quelque  chose  "  is  the  battle-cry  of  the  clerical 
party,  as  many  would-be  reformers,  and  many  honest, 
patriotic  priests  have  learned  to  their  cost.' 

'  They  dare  not  touch  you,  Lino/  said  Vane ;  '  and  it 
is  not  worth  their  while  to  touch  me.  As  for  their  tongues, 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  they  may  use  them  as  long  as 
they  like.' 

'  They  are  not  very  likely  to  use  any  other  weapons  to 
harm  us/  returned  Lino.  i  But  with  Diana ' 

Edmund  started  and  looked  at  him  with  a  horrified 
expression. 

'  Diana ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  Good  God,  Lino !  What  do 
you  mean?  You  cannot  suspect.'" 

Lino  Savelli  laid  his  hand  upon  his  friend's  shoulder. 

'  Gently,  Eddie  ! '  he  interposed  quietly.  '  I  apprehend 
nothing.  But  Diana's  illness  has  been  very  sudden — and 
— we  Romans  are  suspicious  of  sudden  illnesses,  you  know.' 

'  But  who — who '  stammered  Vane,  and  then  his  lips 

refused  to  utter  another  syllable.  He  felt  as  though  sud- 
denly transported  into  past  centuries,  and  wondered  dully 
how  it  came  to  be  that  Lino  and  he  were  discussing  such 
hideous  possibilities  as  were  unfolded  by  the  latter's  words. 
If  any  such  horror  were  possible — had  ever  been  possible 
— in  Christian  Rome,  the  dwelling-place  of  the  Vicar  of 
God,  then  indeed  was  Rome  a  terrible  city,  and  the  insti- 
tution which  defended  itself  by  such  means  an  institution 
founded  not  in  Christ,  but  in  the  nethermost  depths  of 
hell. 

Vane's  apartments  overlooked  grounds  belonging  to  the 
Villa  Medici,  and  from  his  sitting-room  he  could  see  across 
a  wide  expanse  of  Campagna  to  Soracte  far  away  on  the 
northern  horizon.  It  was  evening,  and  the  cool,  rose- 
scented  air  floated  gently  in  through  the  open  windows 
close  to  which  he  and  Lino  were  talking.  From  the  city, 


242  DONNA   DIANA 

of  which  only  a  small  part  was  visible,  rose  the  soft  notes 
of  church-bells — for  it  was  the  hour  of  the  Ave  Maria. 
A  deep  crimson  glow  behind  Monte  Mario  showed  where 
the  sun  had  set,  and  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  purple-hued, 
loomed  out  solemn  and  majestic  against  the  summer  sky. 
In  the  rose-gardens  below,  the  nightingales  were  holding 
a  tournament  of  song,  fire-flies  were  beginning  to  gleam 
among  the  dark  foliage,  and  the  merry  swifts  chased  each 
other  with  shrill  screams  high  up  in  the  blue  air  overhead. 

Vane  gazed  at  the  scene  below  him  for  some  moments 
without  speaking.  Then  he  laughed  uneasily. 

'  It  is  absurd,  Lino ! '  he  said  at  length.  '  Look ! '  he 
added.  '  Is  it  not  beautiful — your  Eome  ?  Is  there  place 
in  it  for  devils?  We  are  no  longer  in  the  dark  ages,  and 
educated  people  do  not  murder  each  other  for  trifles/ 

He  looked  at  Lino  Savelli  curiously,  and  looking,  he 
wondered  with  a  slight  shiver  how  it  was  that  this  young 
Roman,  so  modern  in  his  ideas,  so  unlike  the  generality 
of  his  class  in  his  wide  interests  and  manly  energy,  should 
yet  believe  that  such  deeds  as  those  he  had  hinted  at  were 
possible  in  a  European  capital  in  the  twentieth  century. 

'A  million  of  francs  is  not  a  trifle/  observed  Lino 
Savelli  quietly.  '  Do  not  misunderstand  me,  Eddie/  he 
continued.  '  I  do  not  say  that  I  suspect  Diana's  illness 
to  have  been  caused  by— artificial  means;  but  I  confess 
that  I  was  alarmed  when  I  heard  she  had  developed  this 
fever.  In  fact,  to  be  open  with  you,  I  felt  so  uneasy  that 
with  great  difficulty  I  obtained  leave  to  return  to  Rome 
before  our  manoeuvres  were  over,  on  the  plea  of  urgent 
private  affairs.  Diana,  thank  God !  is  better,  and  does  not 
seem  to  have  been  in  danger,  so  far  as  we  know.  But 
neither  you  nor  I  have  heard  anything  of  her  for  nearly  a 
week,  and  this  makes  me  anxious.  I  shall  go  to  Palazzo 
San  Rocco,  this  evening,  late,  for  then  I  shall  be  sure  to 
find  my  uncle  alone  in  his  own  room.  I  shall  ask  him 
if  he  heard  this  damnable  story  that  De  Villebois  tells  you 
has  been  circulated.  It  will  open  his  eyes  to  the  fact  that, 
with  some  object  or  another  in  view,  intrigues  are  being 


DONNA   DIANA  243 

carried  on  regarding  Diana's  future.  Most  probably  he 
will  have  heard  nothing  of  it.  He  does  not  go  into  the 
world;  besides,  nobody  would  like  to  tell  him.  And  it  will 
make  the  old  fellow  extremely  angry,  Eddie — I  can 
promise  you  that ! '  added  Lino,  with  obvious  satisfaction. 
'  My  uncle  San  Rocco  is  very  lazy,  and  he  does  not  care 
much  about  anything  but  his  whist  and  his  dinner;  but 
he  is  proud,  and  can  be  grand  seigneur  enough  when  he 
chooses/ 

6 1  don't  see  what  you  can  do,  Lino/  said  Vane  thought- 
fully. 'You  see/  he  added,  'it  is  rather  an  awkward 
business.  You  cannot  say  much  to  Prince  San  Eocco 
without  in  a  manner  compromising  the  Cardinal  and  your 
brother.  The  intriguing,  if  there  really  is  any  intriguing, 
must,  after  all,  proceed  from  them/ 

Lino  Savelli  looked  straight  into  his  eyes  with  the  frank, 
loyal  glance  that  had  so  attracted  Edmund  towards  him 
when  they  had  first  known  each  other  in  the  wilds  of 
Abyssinia. 

*  The  Cardinal/  he  said  briefly,  *  is  a  fool !  An  exag- 
gerated idea  of  his  position  has  been  his  misfortune.  They 
are  like  children,  the  majority  of  our  Roman  Princes  of 
the  Church  who  are  "  resident  in  the  City."  What  would 
you  have  ?  The  atmosphere  of  ecclesiastical  Rome  is  heavy 
— stagnant — stunting  to  all  intellectual  growth.  Which 
of  your  great  writers  was  it  who  said  it  was  only  on  the 
summit  of  St.  Peter's  that  one  emerged  from  the  malaria 
hanging  round  its  base — or  words  to  that  effect?  Macau- 
lay,  was  it  not?  Ah,  I  wonder  if  he  knew  how  true  his 
simile  is — how  much  more  true  to-day  than  when  he  wrote 
it?  Yes,  my  uncle  the  Cardinal  is,  with  all  due  respect, 
a  fool.  But  I  do  not  believe  that  he  is  anything  worse. 
He  belongs  to  the  old  order,  for  which  the  world  has  no 
further  need,  thank  God!  But  he  cannot  realize  that  he 
and  his  kind  are  an  anachronism — with  his  mental  train- 
ing and  surroundings,  how  could  he  do  so?  Fortunately 
for  the  Church — and  for  the  world — there  are  men  even  in 
the  Sacred  College  who  recognise  that  Christ  entrusted 


344  DONNA   DIANA 

the  Church  with  a  loftier  mission  than  that  of  extracting 
money  from  the  pockets  of  the  ignorant  and  the  supersti- 
tious, to  further  the  financial  and  political  speculations 
of  the  Vatican  and  of  certain  so-called  religious  congre- 
gations which  stand  behind  the  Vatican/ 

Vane  smiled. 

'You  say  it  is  fortunate  for  the  world  that  there  are 
these  men/  he  remarked.  '  So  you  admit  the  Church  to 
be  a  power  for  good  in  the  world/ 

'  Of  course  I  admit  it ! ?  exclaimed  Lino  impatiently. 
'  Besides/  he  added,  '  do  you  suppose  that  I,  an  Italian, 
wish  to  see  the  Eoman  Church  deprived  of  her  spiritual 
power?  It  is  precisely  this  power  which,  especially  to 
us  Eomans,  forms  a  link  between  our  present  and  our  past. 
We  cannot  afford  to  break  it.  But  we  are  drifting  away 
from  our  subject,  Eddie.  I  do  not  suspect  the  Cardinal 
of  consciously  influencing  Diana,  or  of  consciously  in- 
triguing to  prevent  any  change  in  her  sentiments/ 

'  Then  whom  do  you  suspect  ? ?  asked  Vane. 

1  Those  who  are  able  to  influence  him/  replied  Lino. 
'  Do  you  recollect/  he  continued,  '  what  I  said  just  now 
about  the  particular  defect  of  my  country-people?  Well, 
the  fact  that  Diana  has  a  considerable  sum  of  money  does 
not  convey  much  to  you,  but  you  may  be  sure  that  others 
are  not  careless  as  to  what  becomes  of  a  million  or  so  of 
francs/ 

'  But  if  her  fortune  is  to  go  to  a  convent,  who  would 
be  the  better  off  for  encouraging  her  to  place  it  there  ? ' 
insisted  Vane. 

Lino  Savelli  glanced  at  him. 

'  My  dear  Eddie/  he  replied  gravely,  ( I  would  not  say 
this  to  anybody  in  the  world  except  to  you,  but  I  can 
conceive  that  somebody  might  be  better  off  by  doing  so. 
Let  us  consider  for  a  moment.  What  has  been  said  in 
order  to  account  for  my  supposed  anxiety  to  see  you  mar- 
ried to  Diana,  and  who  has  said  it?  It  is  asserted  that 
you  made  it  worth  my  while — bribed  me,  in  short/ 

<  It  is  so  utterly  absurd ! '  said  Edmund. 


DONNA   DIANA  245 

'  Altro  ! '  But  the  person,  or  persons,  who  started  this 
story  must  have  done  so  under  the  impression  that  it  was 
probable  enough  to  be  believed.  Shall  we  say  that  they 
imputed  to  us  a  porcheria  that  they  were  in  reality  com- 
mitting themselves?' 

Vane  made  a  gesture  of  disgust  and  incredulity. 

c  For  heaven's  sake,  don't  say  so  to  me,  Lino ! '  he  ex- 
claimed. 'Remember  your  remark  when  I  told  you  that 
Countess  Verini  was  responsible  for  the  story.  And  the 
other — well,  he  is  your  brother.' 

Lino  looked  at  him  again,  and  the  light  of  a  great 
affection  shone  in  his  dark  blue  eyes. 

'  Yes,'  he  said  slowly,  *  he  is  my  brother ;  but  you — 
you  are  more  to  me  than  he  is,  Eddie.  Do  you  think  I 
have  forgotten?  I  told  you  once  that  I  should  never  for- 
get, and  we  Savelli — we  keep  our  word.  As  for  Marco ' — 
he  burst  out  suddenly — 'he  is  no  Savelli!  He  left  his 
manhood  behind  him  in  his  seminary.' 

Edmund  was  silent;  indeed,  he  did  not  know  how  to 
reply  to  the  other's  outbreak  of  indignation  and  contempt. 
Nothing,  moreover,  seemed  to  him  to  be  of  any  con- 
sequence in  comparison  with  the  horrible  doubt  that  Lino 
had  expressed  as  to  the  origin  of  Diana's  illness.  The 
very  thought  that  Lino  could  for  a  moment  have  seriously 
entertained  such  a  suspicion  sickened  him,  for  he  knew 
that,  quick-tempered  and  impetuous  as  the  latter  might 
be  in  trifles,  his  judgment  was  cool  and  clear  enough  in 
the  more  serious  details  of  life. 

'  But,  Lino,'  he  said,  after  a  pause,  during  which  Savelli 
puffed  savagely  at  his  cigarette,  'never  mind  all  these 
things  now.  If  your  cousin  doesn't  choose  to  go  into  a 
convent,  they  can't  put  her  there  by  force;  and  perhaps 
she  has  begun  to  have  other  ideas — though  I  hardly  dare 
to  hope  it.  But  for  God's  sake,  put  the  terrible  thought 
out  of  my  mind  that  this  illness  of  hers  is  not  natural. 
You  don't  suspect ' 

'  That  Marco  would  lend  himself  to  such  a  horrible  in- 
trigue?' interrupted  Lino. 


246  DONNA   DIANA 

6  Yes,  that  is  what  I  meant  to  say/  returned  Edmund ; 
'but  it  seemed  too  impossible  to  say  it  to  you.' 

'No/  continued  Lino,  'I  don't.  There  would  be  no 
object  in  his  doing  so.  I  don't  believe  Marco  would  be 
such  a  villain.  But  I  suspect  that  there  are  others  who 
might  think  Diana  could  be  more  easily  influenced  in 
illness  than  in  health.  Cupidity  and  religious  fanaticism 
together  have  employed  strange  means  before  now  where- 
by to  gain  their  ends.  The  educated  shrug  their  shoul- 
ders, and  declare  that  such  things  exist  only  in  the  imag- 
ination of  the  people;  but  sometimes  the  people  know. 
The  truth  is  told  quite  as  often  in  the  porter's  lodges  of 
Kome  as  in  the  drawing-rooms  above  them,  perhaps  more 
often.  However,  now  I  must  go  to  the  club  to  get  some 
dinner.  My  last  attempt  at  a  meal  was  in  the  station 
restaurant  at  Genoa,  and  if  you  have  ever  had  the  mis- 
fortune to  eat  there,  you  will  understand  that  the  result 
was  very  much  the  reverse  of  satisfactory.  Afterwards 
I  will  go  to  Palazzo  San  Kocco.' 

'And  shall  I  see  you  again  this  evening?'  asked  Vane. 

'But  of  course!  Come  to  my  rooms  between  eleven 
and  twelve  o'clock,  and  if  I  have  not  returned,  wait  for 
me.  I  know  you  will  not  sleep  until  you  have  heard  the 
results  of  my  visit/  concluded  Lino,  smiling. 


CHAPTEK   XXI 

CARDINAL  SAVELLI  was  sitting  alone  in  his  study.  The 
windows  of  the  room  were  shut,  and  the  persiennes  with- 
out partly  closed,  admitting  a  cool,  subdued  light  just 
sufficient  for  the  purposes  of  reading  and  writing. 

It  was  a  day  of  scirocco  at  the  beginning  of  June.  The 
sky  was  heavy  and  leaden-coloured,  and  over  the  city  the 
dust-clouds  hung  in  the  air  like  a  gray  mist.  Every  now 
and  then  a  low,  sullen  roll  of  distant  thunder  broke  the 
heavy  stillness ;  or  a  sudden  gust  of  hot  wind,  from  which 
all  the  life-giving  oxygen  seemed  to  have  been  extracted, 
swept  up  from  the  south-east,  raising  little  whirling  col- 
umns of  dust  from  the  pavements,  and  moaning  round 
the  corners  of  the  palaces  and  churches. 

Men  and  beast  alike  felt  the  effect  of  the  heavy,  relax- 
ing atmosphere,  though  the  latter  doubtless  suffered  from 
it  the  more,  owing  to  the  irritability  it  engendered  in  their 
owners.  Fortunately  for  the  nervous  constitution  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Eome,  the  scirocco  blows  more  rarely  in 
spring  and  summer  than  in  the  autumn  and  winter 
months;  for  a  summer  scirocco  surely  must  have  aided 
the  early  Christian  theologists  to  form  their  invention  of 
hell.  Cardinal  Savelli,  like  most  Eomans,  felt  his  nerves 
affected  by  the  African  wind,  but  on  this  particular  after- 
noon it  was  not  the  scirocco  alone  that  caused  him  to  be 
restless  and  uneasy,  and  weighed  down  with  a  sense  of 
impending  misfortune. 

For  some  weeks,  indeed,  the  Cardinal's  household  had 
noticed  in  him  a  certain  nervousness  and  depression  very 
foreign  to  his  usual  demeanour.  If  these  symptoms  had 
been  noticeable  before,  they  had  undoubtedly  become 
much  more  accentuated  since  the  illness  of  his  niece, 
Diana  Savelli. 

247 


248  DONNA   DIANA 

The  anxiety  he  displayed  on  her  behalf — an  anxiety 
which  Marco  had  described  to  Frau  von  Eaben  as  pathetic 
— had  seemed  to  be  scarcely  decreased  by  the  knowledge 
that  her  illness  was  pursuing  a  favourable  course.  Not  con- 
tent with  going  in  person  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  where 
he  would  have  long  conversations  both  with  the  Princess 
and  with  Frau  von  Raben,  the  Cardinal  would  send  repeat- 
edly for  the  latest  news  of  his  niece.  Notwithstanding 
all  his  anxiety,  however,  it  struck  Princess  San  Rocco  as 
curious  that  her  brother  had  never  asked  to  see  Diana. 
She  had  twice  suggested  his  doing  so,  and  on  each  occasion 
Cardinal  Savelli  had  decidedly  negatived  the  proposal,  say- 
ing that  the  quieter  Diana  was  kept  the  better,  and  that  his 
presence  in  her  room  could  only  excite  her. 

Princess  San  Rocco,  as  usual,  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
her  brother  was  right,  and  thought  very  little  more  of  the 
matter. 

Frau  von  Raben,  however,  had  expressed  herself,  so  far 
as  she  ventured  to  do  so  to  the  Princess,  as  exceedingly  sur- 
prised at  His  Eminence's  attitude.  There  was  no  reason, 
she  declared,  why  the  Cardinal's  presence  should  excite 
Diana  more  than  that  of  the  Sister  who  was  nursing  her; 
and  at  such  a  moment  Diana  should  surely  regard  it  as  a 
great  privilege  to  receive  a  visit  from  a  Prince  of  the  Holy 
Church. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Frau  von  Raben  had  been  present  on 
the  last  occasion  when  the  Princess  had  asked  her  brother 
if  he  would  not  go  to  his  niece's  sick-room,  and  she  had 
wondered  at  the  nervous  fear  he  displayed  lest  Princess 
San  Rocco  should  press  the  subject.  She  could  not  under- 
stand why,  if  Cardinal  Savelli  were  so  anxious  about  Diana, 
he  should  seem  to  shrink  from  seeing  her.  Indeed,  having 
heard  from  Marco  of  the  way  in  which  his  uncle  had  been 
affected  by  Diana's  illness,  she  had  quite  expected  that  the 
Cardinal  would  be  a  constant  visitor  to  the  latter's  bedside, 
and  had  not  hesitated  to  tell  him  how  greatly  she  believed 
Diana  to  be  in  need  of  spiritual  consolation  and  advice. 

Cardinal  Savelli  had  learned  many  things  concerning  his 


DONXA   DIANA  249 

niece  from  Frau  von  Eaben's  lips  during  his  daily  visits  to 
the  Palazzo  San  Eocco  after  Diana  had  been  taken  ill.  He 
had  questioned  her  very  profoundly  on  certain  delicate 
points  regarding  Diana's  character  and  temperament.  Frau 
von  Raben  had  thoroughly  enjoyed,  not  only  the  subject 
under  discussion,  but  also  the  opportunity  of  revealing  to  so 
prominent  a  dignitary  of  the  Church  as  Cardinal  Savelli  the 
depth  of  the  psychological  researches  and  her  insight  into 
human  nature,  as  well  as  her  capabilities  of  turning  the  re- 
sults to  good  spiritual  account. 

She  had  duly  told  the  Cardinal  of  her  suspicions  that 
Diana  was  thinking  more  concerning  the  mysteries  of  carnal 
love  ihan  of  those  of  a  spiritual  passion,  and  had  taken 
care  to  impress  upon  him  her  reasons  for  believing  that  in 
Diana's  case  this  development  of  her  bodily  nature  was  due 
to  the  curiosity  concerning  such  matters  excited  in  her  mind 
by  Vane's  admiration  of  her.  Nor  did  Frau  von  Eaben 
hesitate  to  describe  to  her  attentive  listener  the  symptoms 
she  had  noticed  in  his  niece,  which,  in  her  opinion,  justi- 
fied her  suspicions,  so  far  as  delicacy  would  permit  of  their 
description. 

She  had  been  careful,  indeed,  to  prepare  these  discussions 
by  declaring  to  Cardinal  Savelli  that  in  entering  upon  them 
with  him  she  did  so,  as  it  were,  in  the  sacred  spirit  of  the 
confessional.  Such  a  declaration  Frau  von  Eaben  consid- 
ered to  be  due  to  her  own  modesty.  Moreover,  she  knew 
by  long  experience  that  it  facilitated  conversation  upon  cer- 
tain subjects  in  a  marvellous  manner. 

She  had  been  both  puzzled  and  disappointed  that,  al- 
though she  had  so  clearly  pointed  out  the  critical  state  of 
Diana's  soul  owing  to  the  onslaughts  made  upon  it  by  her 
body,  Cardinal  Savelli  did  not  seize  the  obvious  opportunity 
offered  by  the  ailing  condition  of  the  one  to  impress  upon 
his  niece  the  imminent  danger  in  which  she  stood  of  losing 
the  other. 

Whatever  might  be  the  Cardinal's  motive  in  thus  neglect- 
ing so  admirable  an  occasion  to  encourage  Diana  to  re- 
main firm  in  her  resolve  to  enter  religion,  Frau  von  Eaben 


250  DONNA   DIANA 

was  conscious  of  having  done  her  best  to  fulfil  her  part  of 
the  compact  she  had  made  with  Marco  Savelli,  and  indi- 
rectly, as  the  latter  had  always  given  her  to  understand, 
with  the  Cardinal  himself. 

On  this  day  in  early  June,  Cardinal  Savelli  had  not  left 
his  house  since  he  had  returned  there  from  Palazzo  San 
Kocco,  whither  he  had  been  hastily  summoned  at  nine 
o'clock  that  morning.  On  reaching  the  Via  Monserrato  he 
had  at  once  retired  to  his  private  room,  after  having  de- 
sired that  no  one — not  even  Don  Marco  Savelli — should  be 
admitted  to  it. 

The  Cardinal  had  been  on  the  point  of  going  to  the 
Palazzo  San  Rocco  before  entering  upon  his  engagements 
for  the  day,  as  had  been  his  habit  since  his  niece's  illness, 
when  a  messenger  arrived  from  the  Princess  to  say  that 
Diana  had  had  a  sudden  and  severe  relapse,  and  that  the 
doctor  had  asked  to  have  a  consultation.  Cardinal  Savelli 
lost  no  time  in  going  to  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco,  where  he 
found  his  brother-in-law  and  sister  in  a  state  of  great  dis- 
tress and  anxiety.  It  was  quite  true.  Diana,  they  told  him, 
had  suddenly  become  very  excited  while  talking  to  Frau  von 
Raben  the  evening  before.  Her  temperature  had  risen 
rapidly,  and  she  had  been  delirious  for  some  hours  during 
the  night,  and  still  was  so. 

'  We  did  not  send  to  you  last  night,  Camillo,'  the  Princess 
said  to  him,  '  for  we  did  not  wish  to  disturb  you/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  sat  down  without  speaking,  and  his 
hands  trembled. as  he  grasped  the  arms  of  the  chair.  Occu- 
pied as  she  was  with  thinking  of  Diana,  Princess  San  Rocco 
suddenly  found  herself  wondering  why  she  had  not  noticed 
before  that  her  brother  was  aged,  and  that  he  looked  worried 
and  ill. 

'  But  she  was  so  much  better/  he  said  slowly.  '  You  al- 
ways assured  me,  Vittoria,  that  she  would  very  soon  be 
well — and  now — now  she  is  going  to  die  ! ' 

'  God  forbid  ! 9  exclaimed  the  Princess.  '  We  should  not 
say  that.  It  is  a  relapse,  certainly,  but  in  typhoid  there  are 
often  relapses.' 


DONNA   DIANA  251 

Cardinal  Savelli  appeared  scarcely  to  heed  her, 

(  She  is  going  to  die/  he  repeated,  as  if  to  himself,  '  and 
I— 

His  head  sank  on  to  his  breast,  and  he  looked  an  old  man. 
His  right  hand,  with  the  episcopal  ring  sparkling  upon  it, 
gripped  convulsively  the  gilded  arm  of  his  chair.  Suddenly 
he  looked  up. 

'  But  she  must  not  die,  Vittoria — do  you  hear  ?  '  he  ex- 
claimed. ( It  would  be  horrible — horrible  !  She  must  live. 
What  are  the  doctors  for  ?  And  she  is  young,  too — so 
young ! ' 

Prince  San  Rocco  and  his  wife  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 
That  the  Cardinal  had  so  deep  an  affection  for  Diana  was 
something  of  a  revelation  to  them  both. 

The  Princess  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence  that  fol- 
lowed her  brother's  words. 

6  We  must  trust  in  God/  she  said.  '  After  all,  Camillo, 
Diana  belongs  to  Him;  we  must  never  forget  that  she  has 
belonged  to  Him  in  this  world— and  even  if ' — and  she 
paused  for  a  moment — '  even  if  He  were  to  take  her  spirit 
now ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  shook  his  head. 

'  So  young ! '  he  muttered.  '  And  I  thought  of  every- 
thing but  this !  How  could  one  know  she  would  die,  and 
that  there  would  be  no  time ' 

Princess  San  Eocco  interrupted  him. 

f  But,  Camillo/  she  said, '  if  it  seems  good  to  God  to  take 
her,  it  will  be  the  same  as  though  she  had  given  herself  to 
Him  in  this  life.  You  mean  that  she  will  not  have  been 
given  time  to  fulfil  her  vocation.  But  God — — ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  gesture  of  uncon- 
trollable impatience. 

f  God ! '  he  said  abruptly.  (  Where  does  God  enter  ?  I 
was  thinking — oh,  of  other  things,  Vittoria.  You  must 
not  be  astonished  at  what  I  say/  he  added,  becoming  con- 
scious of  a  look  of  amazement  on  his  sister's  face — a  look 
which  was  reflected  in  that  of  Prince  San  Rocco.  '  I  am 
upset/  Cardinal  Savelli  continued.  '  It  is  shocking,  this 


252  DONNA   DIANA 

relapse  of  Diana's,  and  unexpected — yes,  very  unexpected. 
She  is  so  young,  too,  and  life  might  have  held  so  much  for 
her/ 

Prince  San  Rocco  got  up  from  his  chair  and  advanced 
towards  his  brother-in-law. 

'  Diavolo ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  You  both  of  you  talk  as  if 
Diana  were  dead,  when  she  is  as  much  alive  as  you  are! 
Of  course,  the  affair  is  serious — very  serious.  But  you 
are  quite  right  in  one  thing,  Camillo — she  has  youth 
on  her  side,  though  what  advantage  youth  will  be  to 
her  if  she  is  only  to  be  shut  up  in  a  convent,  I  cannot 
imagine.' 

'  Fabrizio  ! '  interposed  the  Princess  reprovingly ;  '  this  is 
not  a  fitting  moment  to  discuss  so  sacred  a  subject  as 
Diana's  vocation.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  her. 

'  Diana's  vocation  ?  '  he  repeated.  '  Certainly  it  is  not 
the  moment  to  discuss  it !  There  is  plenty  of  time,  Vittoria, 
to  think  about  Diana's  vocation.  I  will  go  to  her,'  he  added 
suddenly. 

Princess  San  Eocco  started. 

'  Oh  no,  Camillo  ! '  she  said  hurriedly.  ( You  had  better 
not  do  so.  It  would  be  quite  useless.  She  would  not  know 
you,  and  she  is  terribly  delirious,  poor  child!  It  would 
only  pain  you  to  listen  to  her  ravings,  for  Frau  von  Raben 
tells  me  that  sometimes  they  are ' 

The  Princess  stopped  in  some  embarrassment.  It  was 
inconceivable,  she  thought,  that  her  brother  should  wish  to 
see  Diana  now,  as  he  had  been  unwilling  to  do  so  at  a  time 
when  he  would  have  found  her  in  her  senses. 

But  Cardinal  Savelli  cut  short  her  objections  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand. 

'  I  intend  to  see  her,'  he  said  quietly.  '  If  she  is  delirious, 
she  will  probably  not  be  aware  of  my  presence.  If  she  is 
aware  of  it,  and  it  makes  her  more  excited,  it  is  very  easy 
to  leave  her.  Be  so  kind  as  to  take  me  to  her  room,  Vit- 
toria/ 

Cardinal  Savelli's  manner  and  voice  became  suddenly 


DONNA   DIANA  253 

authoritative,  and  Princess  San  Kocco  felt  that  she  had  no 
choice  but  to  obey  him. 

She  led  the  way  in  silence  to  the  rooms  Diana  was  occu- 
pying. The  bedroom  opened  out  of  another  apartment,  in 
which  Frau  von  Raben  was  sitting,  but  the  double  doors 
between  the  two  rooms  were  open,  and  Diana's  voice  could 
be  plainly  heard. 

Frau  von  Eaben  started  to  her  feet  in  surprise  when  she 
saw  the  Cardinal,  and,  advancing,  took  his  hand,  making  at 
the  same  time  a  low  curtsey. 

( It  is  dreadful !  *  she  exclaimed  with  a  sigh.  '  I  am 
obliged  to  sit  here,  where  Diana  cannot  see  me,  for  my 
presence  in  the  next  room  seems  to  excite  her  terribly,  and 
she  becomes  quite  violent.  Sister  Agnese  and  Ersilia  are 
with  her,  and  the  doctor  has  just  gone.  At  eleven  o'clock 
he  returns  with  Professor  Vacelli,  and  they  are  to  have  a 
consultation.  Your  Eminence  is  surely  not  going  to  see 
her  ? '  she  added. 

'  Yes/  said  Cardinal  Savelli  quietly,  e  I  am  going  to  see 
her/ 

There  was  a  pause,  during  which  the  Princess  and  Frau 
von  Raben  looked  at  each  other. 

Suddenly  Diana's  voice  rang  out  clear  and  strong  from 
the  adjoining  room. 

'  Madame  de  Bonneval !  I  want  Madame  de  Bonneval — 
she  will  understand.  Not  that  other  woman,  Ersilia — do 
you  hear  ?  She  brings  things  that  look  at  me — devils ! 
They  frighten  me  ! ' 

They  heard  Ersilia  trying  to  soothe  her,  and  then  Diana's 
voice  died  away  into  low,  fitful  murmurs. 

'  It  is  nothing  but  "  Madame  de  Bonneval !  "  "  Madame 
de  Bonneval !  "  the  whole  time,'  whispered  Frau  von  Raben. 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  the  Princess. 

'Does  she  mean  Madame  de  Bonneval  of  the  Sacre 
Cceur  ?  '  he  asked. 

'  Yes,'  answered  Princess  San  Rocco.  '  She  has  always 
asked  for  her — ever  since  she  has  been  ill — though,  of 
course,  when  she  was  not  delirious  we  could  explain  to 


354  DONNA   DIANA 

her  that  Madame  de  Bonneval  would  not  be  allowed  to 
come.' 

The  Cardinal  was  about  to  speak  again  when  the  sound 
of  Diana's  voice  checked  him. 

'  Why  did  they  not  tell  me  ? 9  she  cried.  '  She  said  that 
it  was  all  the  same — that  God  and  the  Madonna  wanted 
me  for  their  Son.  But  it  was  not  true — do  you  hear, 
Ersilia  ? — it  was  not  true,  I  say !  Our  Lord  never  looked 
at  me  as  he  looked — never  told  me  that  he  wanted  me. 
And  Lino,  too — Lino  said  he  wanted  me  because  men 
wanted  women — good  women — and  that  all  the  rest  was  a 
lie.  And  now  he  will  not  want  me  any  more,  for  I  told 
him  that  I  did  not  need  any  love  but  Christ's.  It  was 

right  to  tell  him  that — was  it  not,  Ersilia?  Only 

Ah,  if  Madame  de  Bonneval  would  come,  I  could  tell  her 
— she  would  know.  But  not  Frau  von  Raben.  I  will  not 
have  Frau  von  Eaben.  Promise  me,  Ersilia,  that  she  shall 
not  come ! ' 

She  stopped  abruptly. 

Cardinal  Savelli  remained  standing  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  his  gaze  fixed  on  the  open  doorway  like  one  in  a 
trance,  while  Frau  von  Raben  put  her  pocket  handkerchief 
to  her  eyes. 

'Is  it  not  awful — horrible?'  she  said  in  a  low  voice. 
'  What  can  have  put  such  ideas  into  the  poor  child's  head  ? 
There  have  been  bad  influences  at  work — impure  spirits.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  glanced  at  her,  and,  without  speaking, 
moved  slowly  towards  the  door  of  the  bedroom. 

'  Camillo ! '  exclaimed  the  Princess.  '  You  are  not  going 
in  without  warning  her?  Let  me  fetch  Ersilia,  or  Sister 
Agnese :  they  can  perhaps  prepare  her  for  seeing  you/ 

With  a  gesture  that  was  almost  imperious,  the  Cardinal 
motioned  her  aside,  and  passed  on  in  silence  across  the 
threshold  of  his  niece's  sick-room. 

Then  he  turned,  .and  noiselessly  closed  the  double 
folding  -  doors  behind  him,  leaving  his  sister  and  Frau 
von  Raben  gazing  at  one  another  in  speechless  bewilder- 
ment. 


DONNA   DIANA  255 

Cardinal  Savelli  stood  for  a  moment  or  two  just  inside 
the  doorway,  looking  at  Diana  in  silence.  Sister  Agnese 
was  bending  over  the  bed,  arranging  the  pillows  more  com- 
fortably for  her  patient,  and  Ersilia  had  her  back  turned 
towards  the  door  by  which  he  had  entered.  Suddenly  she 
changed  her  position  and  saw  him,  but  Cardinal  Savelli 
checked  her  exclamation  of  surprise  by  a  rapid  sign.  Then 
he  advanced  quietly,  and  sat  down  in  a  chair  beside  her, 
a  few  feet  away  from  the  bedside. 

'  Leave  us/  he  said  in  a  low  tone  to  Ersilia.  '  Sister 
Agnese  can  remain.  No/  he  added  quickly,  as  Ersilia  was 
about  to  retire  into  the  room  he  had  just  left.  '  You  can 
stay  in  the  corridor  outside.  If  you  are  needed,  Sister 
Agnese  will  summon  you/  and  he  pointed  to  the  other 
doorway. 

Sister  Agnese  looked  up  but  made  no  observation.  She 
quietly  withdrew  from  the  bedside,  and  stood  in  the  shadow 
of  the  curtains  at  its  head. 

Diana's  quick  ears  had  caught  the  sound  of  another  voice 
in  the  room,  and  she  looked  round  wildly.  Then  her. gaze 
fell  on  Cardinal  Savelli's  dark  form  sitting  motionless 
before  her.  Her  eyes  dilated,  and  she  raised  herself  up 
in  the  bed. 

'  No  ! '  she  exclaimed — '  no  !  not  that  woman — she  is  a 
devil !  Take  her  away,  Ersilia — take  her  away,  I  say ! ' 

'  Diana!' 

Cardinal  Savelli  spoke  her  name  in  a  low  voice  and  one 
that  was  infinitely  gentle. 

She  looked  at  him  fixedly  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then 
she  smiled. 

'  You  should  not  have  come/  she  said  softly.  ( It  was 
wrong  of  Lino  to  bring  you.  They  would  be  so  angry  if 
they  knew.  But  I — I  am  glad  you  have  come  again,  for  I 
wanted  to  tell  you — I  understand  better  now.  It  was  she 
— Frau  von  Raben — who  lied  to  me.  She  made  me  think 
of  things — of  things  that  she  said  came  with  love.  And, 
oh,  I  will  tell  you ! '  Diana  continued  in  low,  hurried 
tones.  '  I  thought  of  them,  and  then  I  cried  to  think  of 


256  DONNA   DIANA 

Christ  too — as  he  told  me.  But  I  got  confused.  Christ 
never  came.  But  you  came — and  now — now * 

6  Yes  ? '  asked  Cardinal  Savelli  gently.  l  And  now, 
Diana  ? ' 

'  Now — I  hate  Christ !  It  is  terrible,  is  it  not  ? '  and  she 
leaned  forward,  gazing  at  the  Cardinal  with  eager,  earnest 
eyes. 

Sister  Agnes  started  forward. 

'  Hush,  hush ! '  she  exclaimed,  in  horrified  accents,  and 
then  she  added,  turning  to  the  Cardinal :  '  Your  Eminence 
must  not  take  any  heed  of  what  she  may  say.  It  is  unac- 
countable, but  when  people  are  delirious  they  sometimes 
talk  of  strange  things,  and  use  language  they  should  never 
have  heard.  It  is  so  even  with  young  girls/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  did  not  reply.  Indeed,  he  showed  no 
sign  of  being  conscious  that  she  had  spoken,  but  sat  with 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  Diana. 

'  It  is  terrible,  is  it  not  ? '  the  latter  repeated,  '  because, 
you  see,  I  am  not  good  any  more.  And  Lino  said  you 
wanted  me  because  I  was  good.  But  how  can  I  be  good 
if  I  hate  Christ?' 

She  was  quite  calm  now,  but  in  her  eyes  there  shone  the 
light  of  a  great  anxiety.  As  Cardinal  Savelli  met  their 
gaze  he  turned  his  own  away  with  a  sharp  exclamation  that 
was  almost  a  cry  of  pain. 

'But  of  course  His  Eminence  wants  you/  said  Sister 
Agnese  soothingly, ( and  he  knows  that  you  are  good  really, 
and  that  it  is  the  devil  you  hate — not ' 

Diana  interrupted  her  as  she  hesitated. 

'  No/  she  muttered.  '  It  is  Christ  I  hate,  because  they 

want  to  make  me  love  him — like  that — like '  She 

gave  a  sudden  start,  and  pointed  at  the  Cardinal.  '  Who  is 
that  ? '  she  exclaimed  fearfully.  '  Why  has  he  come  here  ? 
Nobody  is  allowed  in  the  gardens.  Ersilia ! ' 

The  Cardinal  rose  from  his  chair  and  came  forward  to 
the  bed.  Suddenly  he  tottered  a  little,  and  then  he  sank 
on  his  knees  by  Diana's  side,  taking  her  hand  between  his 
own. 


DONNA   DIANA  257 

*  It  is  I,  Diana — your  uncle  Camillo/  he  said  in  a  hoarse 
voice. 

Diana  passed  her  other  hand  across  her  -eyes. 

'  I  shall  not  change  my  mind/  she  said  wearily,  '  but  I 
shall  not  forget.  I  am  sorry,  because  if  I  had  known — if 

they  had  told  me But  now  I  must  ask  Madame  de 

Bonneval,  for  she  will  be  able  to  help  me.  She  will  tell 
me  why  it  is  that  I  can  only  remember  your  look — your 
voice — when  I  should  be  thinking  of ' 

6  Yes/  interrupted  Cardinal  Savelli  hastily — '  yes,  Diana, 
you  shall  ask  Madame  de  Bonneval.  She  will  explain  every- 
thing to  you.  But  now  you  must  not  think  of  these  things 
any  more.  By-and-by,  when  you  are  better,  Madame  de 
Bonneval  shall  come  to  you — do  you  understand  ?  ' 

Diana  lay  back  on  her  pillows  and  smiled  a  little. 

6  Yes/  she  said  quietly.  f  She  will  know.  You  see,  I 
want  to  be  good,  but  I  don't  want  God  to  be  angry  if — if 
I  cannot  love  Him/ 

'  He  will  not  be  angry  with  you/  said  Cardinal  Savelli 
very  tenderly — 'not  with  you/  he  added,  as  if  to  him- 
self. 

Diana  sighed  contentedly  and  closed  her  eyes. 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  slowly  from  his  knees.  Bending 
over  Diana,  he  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  on  her  brow 
and  touched  it  with  his  lips. 

And,  as  he  raised  himself  again,  Sister  Agnese,  looking 
in  his  face,  saw  that  it  was  wet  with  tears. 

'  Your  Eminence  must  not  be  unduly  alarmed/  she  ven- 
tured to  say  to  him.  'Donna  Diana  has  a  relapse,  it  is 
true;  but  there  is  no  reason  why  she  should  not  get  over 
it,  for  up  to  the  present  there  are  no  complications/ 

e  And  what  has  caused  this  relapse  ? '  the  Cardinal  asked. 

The  Sister  hesitated. 

'  It  is  a  feature  of  the  illness/  she  replied.  '  An  unex- 
pected relapse  such  as  this  is  always  liable  to  occur  in 
typhoid.  But  Donna  Diana,  in  my  opinion,  has  not  been 
kept  sufficiently  quiet.  Your  Eminence  will  have  noticed 
the  dislike  she  has  formed  for  that  German  lady.  It  is 


258  DONNA   DIANA 

very  unreasonable,  of  course,  but  the  ideas  of  fever  patients 
have  to  be  humoured/ 

'  I  understand/  said  Cardinal  Savelli  briefly.  '  You  must 
use  your  authority/  he  added,  '  to  prevent  Fran  von  Raben 
from  entering  this  room/ 

'Her  presence  certainly  has  a  very  bad  effect/  replied 
Sister  Agnese.  'Your  Eminence's  visit,  on  the  contrary, 
has  calmed  Donna  Diana.  One  would  almost  think  she  had 
expected  you,  though  I  have  never  heard  her  ask  for  you. 
It  has  always  been  this  Madame  de  Bonneval  for  whom 
she  has  called/ 

'  She  shall  see  Madame  de  Bonneval,  if  it  is  possible/ 
returned  Cardinal  Savelli.  .'  I  will  endeavour  to  arrange  it. 
In  the  meantime/  he  added  markedly,  '  it  is  my  wish  that 
Frau  von  Raben  shall  not  be  admitted  to  my  niece's  room. 
You  quite  understand  me,  Sister?' 

Sister  Agnese  bowed. 

f  Perfectly,  your  Eminence/  she  replied ;  '  but  the  Prin- 
cess  ' 

f  I  will  explain  to  the  Princess  why  I  have  given  this 
order/  said  the  Cardinal,  a  little  impatiently.  '  And,  as 
Donna  Diana's  guardian,  my  orders  must  be  obeyed.  Has 
she  asked  for  anyone  else  ? '  he  inquired  suddenly. 

'  She  has  talked  of  someone — some  man  she  wishes  to 
see  again/  answered  Sister  Agnese ; '  but  I  could  not  under- 
stand to  whom  she  was  alluding,  for  sometimes  the  person 
seemed  to  be  a  friend  of  hers,  and  sometimes — '— 

She  paused  confusedly. 

'Yes?'  asked  Cardinal  Savelli.     'And  sometimes?' 

Sister  Agnese  hesitated. 

'Your  Eminence  heard  what  she  said/  she  continued. 
'It  was  shocking— incredible ;  but  she  will  not  be  held 
responsible  for  her  words,  poor  child !  Sometimes  it  seemed 
as  though  the  person  she  desired  to  see  were  a  person  she 
had  known,  and  sometimes  as  though  he  were  our  Blessed 
Lord  Himself.  But  now  that  your  Eminence  has  been/ 
she  continued,  '  of  course,  it  is  clear  that  it  was  you  she 
expected  to  see,  only  her  poor  brain  was  confused/ 


DONNA   DIANA  259 

Cardinal  Savelli  glanced  at  her  with  a  strange  expres- 
sion on  his  face,  but  he  made  no  reply.  Almost  mechani- 
cally he  extended  his  hand  for  the  sister  to  kiss,  and  then, 
after  turning  for  a  moment  to  look  at  Diana,  who  was  still 
lying  quietly  with  closed  eyes,  he  left  the  room  by  the 
same  folding-doors  as  those  by  which  he  had  entered  it, 
pausing  again  to  shut  them  carefully  behind  him. 

Princess  San  Eocco  and  Frau  von  Raben  rose  from  their 
chairs  as  Cardinal  Savelli  emerged  from  Diana's  room,  and 
looked  at  him  anxiously.  The  Princess,  indeed,  became 
very  pale,  for  she  saw  traces  of  emotion  on  her  brother's 
face  such  as  she  had  seldom  or  never  seen  in  his  usually 
calm  and  somewhat  immobile  features. 

(  She  is  worse,  Camillo  ?  '  she  asked  in  a  low  voice.  ( It 
would  have  been  better  to  wait  till  the  doctor  returns  before 
paying  your  visit  to  her/ 

6  Your  Eminence  has  found  it  very  painful,  I  fear/  said 
Frau  von  Raben.  '  She  was  fairly  quiet,  I  trust,  and  said 
nothing  in  her  delirium  to  grieve  or  shock  you  ? ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  beyond  her  at  his  sister. 

( Vittoria/  he  said  quietly,  '  I  think  that  we  need  not 
detain  Frau  von  Raben.  These  domestic  troubles ' 

Frau  von  Raben' s  sallow  face  flushed  angrily. 

'  Of  course/  she  said  stiffly,  '  if  your  Eminence  desires 
to  be  alone  with  the  Princess,  I  will  return  to  Diana's  room, 
where  I  may  be  wanted.  Perhaps,  now  that  she  has  seen 
his  Eminence,  she  may  be  more  reasonable,  and  not  object 
to  my  presence.' 

She  was  already  moving  towards  the  door,  when  the 
Cardinal's  voice  arrested  her. 

'  No  ! '  he  exclaimed  brusquely.  '  My  niece's  condition 
is  not  improved  by  your  being  near  her,  madame.  Do  you 
understand — it  is  not  improved?'  And  he  looked  mean- 
ingly towards  the  door  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  apart- 
ment. 

Frau  von  Raben  gazed  at  him  in  astonishment  for  a 
moment,  and  then  she  put  her  handkerchief  again  to  her 
eyes. 


260  DONNA    DIANA 

e  But,  Camillo,'  interposed  the  Princess, '  Frau  von  Raben 
has  been  so  devoted  to  Diana.  It  is  hard  upon  her  to  be 
excluded  from  her  room/ 

'  Basta,  Vittoria ! '  exclaimed  Cardinal  Savelli  impet- 
uously. (  Is  Diana  my  ward,  or  is  she  not  ? ' 

Princess  San  Rocco  was  silent,  and  Frau  von  Raben 
hastily  left  the  room. 

Cardinal  Savelli  paced  up  and  down  for  some  moments 
without  speaking.  Presently  he  turned  to  his  sister  and 
said  hesitatingly : 

'  You  think  I  am  unfair  to  Frau  von  Raben,  do  you  not, 
Vittoria?' 

'  Well,  yes,  Camillo,  I  do  not  think  you  understand.  She 
is  such  a  pious  woman — so  devoted  to  our  holy  religion. 
Decidedly,  the  devotion  of  converts  should  make  us,  who 
have  been  born  in  the  faith,  ashamed  of  our  indifference. 
Besides,  Frau  von  Raben  is  really  attached  to  Diana.  She 
has  prayed  so  earnestly  for  the  child  that  nothing  should 
cause  her  to  fall  away  from  her  vocation.  And,  since  Diana 
has  been  ill,  she  has  had  Masses  said,  and  burned,  oh,  a 
great  many  candles — more  than  ten  francs'  worth,  I  think 
she  says — for  her  recovery.  It  is  very  touching.  Yes,  I 
think  it  is  hard  upon  her,  Camillo,  and  she  will  regard  it 
as  unjust/ 

The  Cardinal  listened  without  interrupting  her.  Then 
he  said,  as  though  speaking  to  himself: 

{ Unjust?  Ah  yes,  I  have  been  unjust — an  unjust 
steward.'  Then  he  checked  himself  abruptly.  '  I  have 
thought  lately  that  perhaps  it  is  Diana  to  whom  we  have 
been  unjust,  Vittoria — you — I — all  of  us,'  he  added. 

Princess  San  Rocco  stared  at  him. 

( I  don't  know  what  you  mean,'  she  replied.  '  God  has 
seen  fit  to  give  her  a  vocation.' 

'Yes,'  interrupted  Cardinal  Savelli,  'but  he  also  saw 
fit  to  make  her  a  woman.' 

(  Of  course.  But  what  has  that  to  do  with  it  ?  It  is 
only  very  recently  that  Diana's  mind  has  appeared  to  be 
upset. '  I  had  not  noticed  anything  myself ;  but  Frau 


DONNA    DIANA  261 

von  Eaben  is  very  shrewd  in  such  matters,  and  she  tells 
me ' 

e  What  does  she  tell  you  ? '  asked  the  Cardinal. 

'  Oh,  that  she  sees  signs  of — well,  really,  Camillo,  you 
may  imagine  what  I  mean — of  ideas  in  Diana's  mind 
which  are  unfitting  in  a  girl  who  is  practically  dedicated 
to — to  such  a  life  in  this  world  as  shall  win  for  her  that 
special  crown  reserved  in  the  next  for ' 

6  Exactly  ! '  exclaimed  Cardinal  Savelli.  (  And  it  is  for 
this  very  reason  that  I  will  not  permit  Diana's  mind  to  be 
disturbed.  At  least,  in  this  I  will  be  just  to  the  child,  at 
whatever  cost  to  myself/ 

'  But  I  do  not  understand,  Camillo/  said  the  Princess. 

'  No,  you  do  not  understand.  But  it  must  be  as  I  say. 
Diana  must  be  left  absolutely  free — soul  and  body — for  we 
must  be  just  to  her  body  as  well.  She  does  not  wish  to  see 
Frau  von  Eaben,  and  she  shall  not  see  her/ 

'  She  sent  for  her  yesterday/  said  the  Princess. 

cYes,  and  to-day  she  is  worse  than  she  has  ever  been. 
Her  relapse  is  due  as  much  to  illness  of  the  mind  as  of  the 
body — probably  more  so.' 

( How  can  you  know  ? '  objected  Princess  San  Eocco, 
who  was  beyond  measure  astonished  and  puzzled  by  her 
brother's  attitude. 

'  I  do  know — it  does  not  matter  how.  For  the  present, 
at  any  rate,  she  shall  not  see  Frau  von  Eaben.  On  that  I 
insist,  Vittoria.  She  shall,  however,  see  this  lady  from 
the  Sacre  Cosur.' 

e Madame  de  Bonneval?  But  it  is  impossible!  She 
would  not  be  allowed  to  come.' 

'  Exceptions  are  sometimes  made/  said  Cardinal  Savelli. 
e  At  least/  he  added,  '  I  shall  use  all  the  influence  that  may 
be  left  to  me  to  induce  the  Mother  Superior  to  grant  leave 
for  Madame  de  Bonneval  to  do  so/ 

Princess  San  Eocco  looked  at  her  brother  in  silence. 
That  something  had  occurred  to  move  him  very  deeply 
she  could  not  but  see,  and  she  wondered  what  had  passed 
during  the  quarter  of  an  hour  that  he  had  been  with 


262  DONNA   DIANA 

Diana.  Ersilia  would  tell  her,  she  thought;  for  she  knew 
that  it  would  be  useless  to  ask  Sister  Agnese.  The  latter, 
with  true  professional  reticence,  confined  herself  strictly 
to  the  technical  details  of  her  patient's  malady,  and  ap- 
peared to  be  both  blind  and  deaf  to  anything  else. 

Princess  San  Rocco  was  not  a  little  shocked,  as  well  as 
surprised.  Diana's  vocation  had  been  a  very  real  thing 
to  her,  and  she  had  never  questioned  its  origin. 

That  her  brother,  a  Prince  of  the  Church,  should  even 
permit  himself  a  doubt  as  to  its  sanctity  was  quite  beyond 
her  comprehension. 

e  You  have  been  upset  by  her  ravings,  Camillo,'  she  said. 
'  Frau  von  Raben  has  been  terribly  distressed  at  things 
she  has  said.  She  has  talked  about — well,  about  love;  as 
if  she  could  know  what  it  is !  But  you  should  not  regard 
it.  Sister  Agnese  does  not  pay  the  slightest  attention,  for 
she  has  had  so  much  experience  of  fever.  I  told  you  that 
it  was  a  mistake — your  going  to  see  her  now.  You  should 
have  gone  when  she  was  herself,  and  then  you  could  have 
spoken  to  her  and  reminded  her  of  her  duties  to  Almighty 
God/ 

'I?'  exclaimed  the  Cardinal  bitterly. 

6  Certainly,  Camillo !  Who  should  speak  to  her  on  such 
subjects  with  more  authority  than  yourself?' 

Cardinal  Savelli  turned  away  from  his  sister  abruptly. 

e  I  am  going  home,  Vittoria,'  he  said.  '  I  want  to  be 
alone — to  think,  to  pray — if  it  is  not  too  late  to  pray.  You 
will  let  me  know  at  once  the  result  of  the  doctors'  con- 
sultation, and  what  Vacelli  says.  And  if  Diana  should 
be  worse — if  there  should  be  danger — you  will  send  for 
me.  Sister  Agnese  has  had  my  orders,  and  on  no  pretext 
is  Frau  von  Raben  to  be  admitted  to  Diana's  room.' 

'  Of  course,  Camillo,  your  wishes  must  be  obeyed  in 
everything  that  affects  Diana,'  returned  Princess  San 
Rocco.  '  But  I  think  you  are  attaching  too  much  import- 
ance to  what  she  says  in  her  delirium.' 

The  Cardinal  made  no  response,  and  his  countenance 
assumed  the  fixed,,  anxious  expression  that  the  Princess 


DONNA   DIANA  263 

had  noticed  when  he  had  first  reached  the  Palazzo  San 
Rocco  after  hearing  of  Diana's  relapse. 

He  walked  slowly  from  the  room,  and  through  the  draw- 
ing-rooms of  the  palace  to  the  ante-camera,  where  his  serv- 
ant was  in  waiting.  The  Princess  accompanied  him  to 
the  entrance-door,  and  stood  for  a  moment  watching  him 
with  a  mingled  expression  of  wonder  and  anxiety  on  her 
face,  as  he  descended  the  great  staircase  to  his  carnage. 

'  Camillo  is  certainly  very  unlike  himself/  she  thought. 
e  Who  could  have  believed  that  he  would  suddenly  develop 
these  doubts  as  to  Diana's  vocation?  He  must  be  fonder 
of  her  than  we  knew,  for  her  illness  has  certainly  upset 
him  strangely.  It  is  very  curious.' 

And  then  Princess  San  Kocco  fell  to  thinking  how  she 
should  soothe  Frau  von  Eaben's  wounded  feelings. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE  silence  in  Cardinal  Savelli's  study  was  as  that  of  a 
death-chamber.  Only  the  sound  of  the  wind  beating  in 
fretful  gusts  against  the  closed  windows  broke  it,  and  the 
measured  ticking  of  a  Louis  Quatorze  clock  standing  on 
a  handsome  lacquered  bracket  above  the  doorway. 

Cardinal  Savelli  was  seated  at  his  writing-table,,  gazing 
absently  at  a  pile  of  letters  and  circulars  lying  untouched 
before  him.  Besides  this  mass  of  unopened  correspond- 
ence lay  his  scarlet  skull-cap,  and  every  now  and  then  he 
wiped  his  brow  with  his  handkerchief,  as  though  oppressed 
by  the  heaviness,  of  the  atmosphere  even  inside  the  cool 
and  darkened  apartment. 

The  result  of  the  doctors'  consultation  at  the  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  had  reached  him.  The  well-known  physician 
whom  the  doctor  attending  Diana  had  summoned  had 
agreed  with  his  colleague  that,  though  her  fever  was  high, 
Donna  Diana  Savelli  was  in  no  immediate  danger;  and 
that  unless  complications,  hitherto  non-existent,  should 
arise,  there  was  no  reason  why  she  should  not  get  over 
her  relapse — which,  indeed,  was  probably  the  crisis  of  the 
illness. 

So  far,  the  news  was  reassuring;  but  the  anxiety  which 
Cardinal  Savelli  had  felt  as  to  whether  his  niece  was  about 
to  succumb  to  her  malady,  though  diminished,  could  not 
be  set  at  rest  until  the  fever  should  abate  and  the  crisis 
be  considered  as  overcome. 

The  Cardinal's  face  looked  gray  and  haggard  in  the 
dim  light  that  came  through  the  closed  persiennes.  Some- 
times he  sighed  heavily,  and  occasionally  he  would  rise 
from  his  chair  to  walk  restlessly  about  the  room,  as  though 
seeking  relief  in  motion  from  the  tyranny  of  his  thoughts. 

264 


DONNA   DIANA  265 

Monsignor  Tomei  had  been  right  when  he  described 
Cardinal  Savelli  as  a  man  of  impulses;  and  he  had  also 
been  correct  in  his  opinion  that  the  Cardinal  was  quite 
as  much  under  the  influence  of  the  hereditary  traditions 
of  the  Eoman  aristocrat  as  of  those  appertaining  to  his 
ecclesiastical  rank  and  dignity. 

Like  his  eldest  brother,  Prince  Savelli,  the  Cardinal 
had  been  accustomed  to  have  but  one  idea  as  to  the  use 
of  his  money — namely,  that  the  latter  should  be  employed 
to  maintain,  in  a  fitting  way,  his  dignity  as  a  member  of 
the  Savelli  family. 

For  many  years  Cardinal  Savelli  had  found  no  diffi- 
culty in  borrowing  money,  more  especially  since  he  had 
allowed  Monsignor  Tomei  to  negotiate  for  him.  In  Kome, 
as  elsewhere,  there  are  always  men  of  good  brains  ready 
to  find  money  for  men  of  good  blood  to  squander;  and 
ready,  moreover,  to  encourage  the  latter  to  squander  it. 

The  Cardinal  had  realized  only  comparatively  recently 
that  there  could  be  any  difficulty  in  finding  money  when 
a  Savelli  needed  it,  and  the  discovery  had  come  to  him  as 
a  disagreeable  surprise.  Of  late,  too,  Monsignor  Tomei 
had  pointed  out  to  him,  with  some  insistence,  the  fact  that 
a  very  large  proportion  of  his  yearly  income  was  swallowed 
up  by  the  interest  he  was  paying  upon  the  various  sums 
he  had  borrowed.  A  shrewder  man  of  business  than  Car- 
dinal Savelli  would  have  foreseen  this  state  of  affairs; 
but  the  Cardinal  had.  merely  contented  himself  with  in- 
forming Monsignor  Tomei  from  time  to  time  that  he  was 
in  want  of  ready  money,  and  the  latter  had  procured  it 
for  him. 

Cardinal  Savelli,  indeed,  found  himself  in  the  position 
of  a  man  who,  walking  carelessly  on  his  way,  suddenly 
becomes  conscious  of  a  precipice  yawning  beneath  his  feet. 
He  had  drawn  back  in  horror  and  alarm,  only  to  find  that 
retreat  was  blocked  by  his  own  want  of  forethought.  His 
liabilities  met  him  on  every  side;  and  whereas  Monsignor 
Tomei  had  been  in  the  habit  of  affecting  to  regard  their 
future  settlement  as  a  comparatively  simple  affair,  he 


266  DONNA   DIANA 

now  lost  no  opportunity  of  impressing  upon  the  Cardinal 
the  perils  of  the  financial  impasse  in  which  the  latter 
found  himself.  There  was  one  way,  Monsignor  Tomei 
had  assured  him,  and  one  way  only,  out  of  this  impasse, 
and  this  was,  of  course,  retreat.  If,  as  Cardinal  Savelli 
had  remarked  bitterly,  retreat  was  blocked  by  past  follies, 
the  capital — so  Monsignor  Tomei  declared — still  in  the 
Cardinal's  hands,  must  be  judiciously  employed  to  open 
it  out — Donna  Diana's  fortune,  which  would  not  be  called 
up  for  some  six  years,  if  he,  Monsignor  Tomei,  were  em- 
powered to  arrange  the  matter. 

Monsignor  Tomei  had  been  in  little  doubt  as  to  the 
result  of  what  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  an  ultima- 
tum carefully  prepared  by  Marco  Savelli  and  himself. 
Year  by  year  the  net  had  been  drawn  closer,  and  the  prey 
could  scarcely  escape  entanglement  in  its  meshes. 

There  were  certain  things,  however,  that  Monsignor 
Tomei  had  been  incapable  of  foreseeing,  and  which  had 
therefore  not  entered  into  his  calculations.  The  peasant, 
shrewd  and  educated  as  he  was,  was  a  peasant  still;  and, 
as  such,  had  omitted  to  take  into  account  the  pride  of  the 
gentleman,  or  to  realize  that,  even  though  this  pride  might 
have  stooped  to  acts  most  derogatory,  there  was  still  likely 
to  be  a  limit  to  its  powers  of  self-deception  and  self- 
degradation.  Marco  Savelli  might  have  realized  it,  in- 
deed. But  Marco  Savelli  belonged  to  the  degenerate  of 
his  order,  in  whom  all  sense  of  pride  and  honour  seems 
to  be  worn  out  and  dead;  to  the  type  which  may  be  seen 
in  the  Corso  on  any  afternoon,  staring  insolently  at  the 
women  driving  past,  and  idling  away  the  hours  until  it 
is  time  to  gamble  at  the  clubs  or  enjoy  the  intellectual 
delights  of  a  Roman  music-hall;  to  the  type  of  those  who 
trade  upon  their  ancestors'  names  and  think  it  beneath 
their  dignity  to  gain  their  money  honestly — the  class 
which  Italy  must  remodel  or  extirpate  before  she  can  reach 
her  glorious  goal  and  emancipate  herself  entirely  from 
the  demoralizing  effects  of  centuries  of  priestly  predom- 
inance. 


DONNA   DIANA  267 

Cardinal  Savelli's  pride  had  revolted  at  this  last  step 
which  Monsignor  Tomei  had  proposed  to  him.  Already 
he  had  suffered  much — none  but  he  knew  how  much — 
from  the  knowledge  that  he  had  been  an  unjust  steward. 
And  after  self-reproach  had  come  self-examination,  and, 
bitterest  of  all,  self-condemnation. 

Would  he  have  been  so  confident  that,  as  he  had  often 
declared  to  his  sister  and  to  Diana  herself,  Almighty  God 
was  calling  the  latter,  and  had  chosen  her  to  be  one  of 
those  who  should  hereafter  receive  the  glorious  crown  of 
virginity,  had  this  Divine  call  not  coincided  so  admirably 
with  his  own  interests? 

As  long  as  his  niece  was  a  child  it  had  been  easier  for 
Cardinal  Savelli  to  deceive  himself.  That  it  was  only 
self-deception  grew  ever  more  apparent  as  Diana's  gracious 
womanhood  unfolded  itself.  But  he  had  nourished  this 
self-deception,  and  clung  to  it  until  he  had  almost  come 
to  believe  in  its  genuineness.  It  might  be,  he  had  told 
himself  again  and  again,  that  God  had  indeed  willed  that 
this  girl  should  never  know  the  joys  of  human  love — that 
she  had  been  reserved  from  her  birth  for  that  higher  love, 
concerning  the  joys  of  which  so  many  holy  men  and  women 
had  discoursed  and  written. 

Possibly  Cardinal  Savelli  had  in  his  time  enjoyed 
greater  facilities  for  comparing  the  merits  of  material  and 
spiritual  love  than  had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  at  least  some 
among  the  holy  people  aforesaid.  However  this  might 
be,  it  is  certain  that  as  Diana  grew  older  the  pity  of  the 
thing  had  appealed  to  him  more  and  more  forcibly,  and 
the  natural  sympathies  of  the  man  in  Cardinal  Savelli 
had  warred  with  the  artificial  theories  of  the  ecclesiastic. 

And  now  he  found  himself  brought  face  to  face  with 
a  terrible  choice.  If  he  had  almost  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing himself  that  Diana  was  possessed  of  a  nature  different 
from  that  of  the  majority  of  girls  of  her  age,  the  doubts 
that  lingered  in  his  mind  as  to  the  legitimacy  of  such 
a  conclusion  had  in  the  last  few  weeks  asserted  them- 
selves with  ever-increasing  persistence.  He  had  shrunk 


268  DONNA   DIANA 

from  exposing  himself  to  any  definite  confirmation  of 
these  doubts,  well  aware  of  the  precipice  which  such  a 
confirmation  would  disclose  before  him. 

And  to-day,  impelled  by  his  fear  that  Diana's  life  was 
in  danger,  he  had  stood  by  her  bedside  and  listened  to 
her  words — those  words  which  for  others  were  but  the  in- 
consequent wandering  of  a  fever-stricken  mind,  but  which 
for  him  were  pregnant  with  significance,  and  laden  with 
reproaches  all  the  more  bitter  because  so  unconsciously 
and  so  innocently  uttered. 

As  Cardinal  Savelli  paced  up  and  down  his  darkened 
study,  it  seemed  to  him  as  though  he  were  not  alone — as 
though  he  could  not  be  alone.  If  only  the  voices  that 
whispered  suggestions  in  his  ear  would  leave  him  in  peace 
to  think  out  his  own  thoughts!  Diana  should  not  be 
wronged  more  than  he  had  already  wronged  her.  As  to 
this,  Cardinal  Savelli  had  made  up  his  mind  in  the  brief 
moment  when  he  had  bent  over  her  and  signed  the  sign 
of  the  Cross  on  her  brow.  He  saw  it  as  it  was  now — the 
girl's  pretended  vocation;  and  knew  it  to  be  no  call  from 
God  bidding  her  stultify  His  own  creation,  but  the  effect 
of  suggestion  acting,  at  the  most  impressionable  age,  upon 
an  impressionable  and  devotional  mind. 

That  this  nature  was  stirring  in  Diana  the  words  she 
had  spoken  in  his  presence  left  him  convinced.  The  Car- 
dinal had  no  doubt,  moreover,  as  to  whom  it  was  who 
had  caused  it  to  stir.  Except  her  own  near  relatives, 
Diana  had  seen  no  man  but  his  nephew  Michelangelo's 
English  friend,  and  the  latter  had  not  concealed  the  fact 
that  he  was  in  love  with  her.  Well,  this  Mr.  Yane  was 
a  Catholic,  nobly  born  in  his  own  country,  and  therefore 
fit  to  marry  a  daughter  of  Casa  Savelli. 

And  then  other  voices  would  whisper  to  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli, telling  him  of  the  ruin  that  was  staring  him  in  the 
face,  the  dishonour  that  must  assuredly  overtake  him  if 
he  were  called  upon  to  render  an  account  of  his  steward- 
ship. If  this  Englishman  wished  to  marry  Diana,  and 
she  had  begun  to  reciprocate  his  love,  there  was  nothing 


DONNA   DIANA  269 

but  Diana's  supposed  vocation  standing  between  them — 
nothing  but  this  vocation  standing  between  him  and  finan- 
cial ruin  and  moral  disaster. 

He  had  acted,  to  be  sure,  by  Itfonsignor  Tomei' s  advice 
when  he  had  withdrawn  a  hundred  thousand  francs  from 
Diana's  capital  to  replace  the  sum  he  had  been  obliged 
to  use  belonging  to  the  Credit  Bank,  of  which  he  was  an 
honoured  director.  But  he  had  done  this  as  much  to 
prevent  a  scandal  which  would  injure  the  Church  as  to 
protect  his  own  good  name.  And  there  were  other  smaller 
sums  that  he  had  withdrawn  from  time  to  time — sums  of 
which  Tomei  knew  nothing,  besides  the  money  he  had 
paid  away  to  meet  his  nephew  Marco's  losses  in  specula- 
tion on  the  Bourse. 

Cardinal  Savelli  groaned  aloud.  The  temptation  was 
too  strong;  the  price  he  would  have  to  pay  for  listening 
to  the  voice  of  his  conscience  and  obeying  the  impulses 
that  had  overwhelmed  him  when  he  knelt  at  Diana's  bed- 
side was  too  heavy.  He  had  but  to  continue  to  regard 
Diana's  vocation  as  genuine,  and  the  influences  which  had 
hitherto  surrounded  her  would  continue  their  work  also. 
How  varied  and  how  subtle  these  influences  were  he  well 
knew.  It  would  not  be  difficult  to  persuade  Diana  that 
she  was  risking  the  safety  of  her  soul  by  listening  to  the 
dictates  of  her  earthly  nature.  And  then — then  he  would 
be  saved!  For  six  or  seven  years,  according  to  the  ar- 
rangement which  Monsignor  Tomei  had  proposed,  he  could 
not  be  called  upon  to  pay  over  more  than  a  comparatively 
insignificant  portion  of  Diana's  fortune. 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  the  chair  into  which  he  had 
cast  himself  while  trying  to  battle  with  his  conflicting 
thoughts,  and  walked  slowly  towards  a  door  at  the  end 
of  the  room,  partially  concealed  by  a  heavy  portiere. 
Beyond  it  was  his  private  chapel  where  he  said  Mass  every 
morning,  on  the  altar  of  which  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
was  reserved.  He  had  said  mass  that  morning  also,  and 
had  prayed  honestly  and  sincerely,  not  only  for  Diana's 
recovery,  but  also  that  he  might  be  given  strength  and 


270  DONNA   DIANA 

opportunity  to  repair  the  injury  he  had  done  her.  He 
had  prayed,  too,  that  he  might  be  given  strength  to  tri- 
umph over  the  temptation  to  act  in  his  own  interests 
regarding  her  taking  the  veil,  and  that  he  might  be  clearly 
shown  how  far  he  had  been  biassed  by  these  interests  in 
his  readiness  to  believe  in  the  genuineness  of  her  vocation 
for  the  cloister. 

His  prayer  had  been  answered  more  fully  and  more 
speedily  than  he  had  anticipated;  for  he  had  barely  con- 
cluded Mass  that  morning,  and  afterwards  taken  his  usual 
breakfast  of  a  cup  of  black  coffee  and  a  small  roll,  when 
he  had  been  summoned  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 

Cardinal  Savelli  drew  the  portiere  aside  and  rolled  the 
sliding-door  behind  it  back  into  the  wall.  The  chapel 
was  merely  a  small  square  room  which  had  been  adapted 
to  its  sacred  use.  A  few  chairs  and  a  prie-dieu  covered 
with  crimson  velvet  placed  in  front  of  the  altar  formed 
its  furniture,  and  its  only  ornament,  save  those  on  the 
altar  itself,  was  a  Madonna  hanging  above  the  latter,  a 
painting  which  had  been  sent  as  a  gift  to  the  Cardinal 
from  Spain  shortly  after  his  elevation  to  the  purple. 

The  chapel  was  almost  in  darkness;  only  the  light 
coming  through  the  open  door  illumined  it,  and  the  faint 
glow  from  the  red  lamp  burning  in  front  of  the  tabernacle 
on  the  altar. 

Cardinal  Savelli  advanced  to  the  prie-dieu  before  the 
altar,  and,  kneeling  down,  covered  his  face  with  his  hands. 
A  quarter  of  an  hour  passed,  and  still  he  remained  there, 
silent  and  motionless  save  for  an  occasional  sigh.  Pres- 
ently a  slight  noise  behind  him  caused  him  to  raise  his 
head  and  look  round.  His  nephew  Marco  Savelli  stood 
in  the  doorway  looking  at  him. 

Marco!  Ah,  yes,  he  had  forgotten  Marco.  At  least, 
here  was  one  of  his  family  in  whom  he  could  confide, 
whom  he  had  always  treated  more  as  a  son  than  a  nephew, 
and  for  whose  sake,  indeed,  he  had  first  stifled  the  scru- 
ples of  his  conscience  and  encroached  upon  the  money  that 
he  held  in  trust  for  Diana.  Marco  would  understand  the 


DONNA   DIANA 

position  in  which  he  found  himself,  and  at  any  rate  he 
could  talk  to  him  more  freely  concerning  their  family 
affairs  than  he  could  do  to  Monsignor  Tomei,  who,  with 
all  his  astuteness,  was  an  inferior. 

The  Cardinal  rose  from  his  knees  and  approached  his 
nephew. 

'  You  have  heard  about  Diana  ? '  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
as  they  left  the  chapel  together  and  Marco  drew  the  slid- 
ing door  back  into  its  place.  '  I  was  praying  for  her/ 
he  added — '  for  her,  and ' 

Marco  Savelli  looked  at  him,  and  a  slight  expression  of 
contempt  passed  over  his  face. 

6  Yes,  I  have  heard/  he  replied  briefly.  '  It  is  very 
unfortunate;  but  at  present  there  appears  to  be  no  im- 
mediate danger.  Diana  is  young  and  healthy;  she  will 
most  probably  get  over  this  relapse.  You  have  seen  her 
this  morning  ? '  he  added  suddenly. 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  surprised. 

6  Yes/  he  answered,  *  I  have  seen  her ;  but  how  do  you 
know  ? ' 

Marco  Savelli  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  Hearing  that  you  had  been  sent  for  so  hastily/  he  said, 
'  I  went  to  Palazzo  San  Eocco  to  inquire,  and  there  I  heard 
that  you  were  with  Diana.  Of  course,. the  whole  house- 
hold knew  you  had  gone  to  her  room.' 

'  Yes/  said  Cardinal  Savelli  hesitatingly.  '  It  was  very 
painful.  The  poor  child  was  delirious,  Marco.' 

His  nephew  looked  at  him  sharply. 

e  Ah ! '  he  exclaimed,  f  they  told  me  she  had  been  very 
delirious  all  night.  But  it  is  not  worth  while  to  attach 
any  importance  to  what  people  say  when  they  are  in  that 
state.  I  suppose  she  did  not  recognise  you?'  he  added. 

(  No/  replied  the  Cardinal  gravely ;  '  that  was  the  pain- 
ful part  of  it.  She  did  not  recognise  me,  but  took  me 
for  somebody  else.  First  of  all  she  thought  I  was  Frau 

von  Eaben,  and  then  she  took  me  for '  and  he  paused, 

looking  at  Marco  doubtfully. 

'  For  whom  ? ?  asked  the  latter. 


272  DONNA   DIANA 

'Well/  continued  Cardinal  Savelli  a  little  hurriedly, 
'I  think  you  should  know,  Marco.  I  fear  we  have  all 
been  very  much  mistaken  concerning  Diana.  Your  brother 
Lino  has  had  more  penetration  than  any  of  us.  Diana 
believed  that  I  was  somebody  else — some  man  who  must 
evidently  have  succeeded  in  arousing  her  interest,  if  not 
something  stronger  than  interest.  We  can  guess  without 
much  difficulty  who  this  individual  is  likely  to  be.' 

'Yes/  replied  Marco,  and  his  voice  became  loud  and 
angry,  '  we  can  guess  very  easily.  It  is  fortunate  that  we 
are  able  to  do  so,  because  we  can  save  Diana  from  falling 
into  the  clutches  of  a  fortune-hunter — a  foreigner  who, 
on  the  pretence  of  having  done  some  mysterious  service 
to  Lino  when  the  latter  was  little  more  than  an  inex- 
perienced boy,  has  succeeded  in  worming  himself  into  an 
acquaintanceship  with  our  family.  If  you  knew  as  much 
about  the  fellow  as  I  have  learned  lately,  you  would  sooner 
see  Diana  in  her  grave  than  a  victim  to  his  designs.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  started. 

'  What  do  you  mean,  Marco  ? '  he  asked. 

f  Mean  ? '  repeated  Marco  Savelli  excitedly.  e  Why,  that 
the  man  is  an  animale !  If  I  have  not  said  anything  about 
him  before,  it  was  because  I  believed  that  Diana  was  suf- 
ficiently well  guarded  to  be  out  of  his  reach,  and,  more- 
over, I  did  not  wish  to  draw  attention  to  the  fact  that 
Lino  chooses  his  friends  among  such  canaglia.  I  know 
something  of  the  habits  of  this  Vane,  uncle/  he  continued. 
e  They  are — well,  of  a  nature  not  to  be  inquired  into  too 
closely,  if  one  may  believe  what  one  hears.  Besides,  all 
Rome  suspects  that  there  has  been  some  arrangement 
between  him  and  Lino — that  he  has  some  hold  over  Lino 
which  obliges  the  latter  to  help  him  in  his  schemes  con- 
cerning Diana.' 

*  Yes,  yes/  said  Cardinal  Savelli ;  '  I  have  heard  some- 
thing of  this.  Tomei  told  me  there  was  such  a  rumour 
afloat,  and,  unfortunately,  some  colour  is  lent  to  it  by 
the  fact  that  Lino's  debts,  which  Tomei  declares  wore 
considerable,  appear  to  have  been  mysteriously  paid.' 


DONNA    DIANA  273 

'  All  Kome,  as  I  say,  has  been  talking  about  it/  returned 
Marco.  'I  am  even  told,'  he  added,  'that  bets  have  been 
made  as  to  whether  this  Englishman  would  succeed  in 
getting  hold  of  Diana  and  her  dot! 

Cardinal  Savelli's  face  flushed  angrily. 

'  It  is  a  new  thing  for  the  women  of  our  house  to  be 
made  subjects  for  wagers/  he  said.  (  But  how  have  you 
learned  what  you  tell  me  about  Vane  ? '  he  added.  '  If 
he  is  a  mauvais  sujet,  he  is  certainly  not  to  be  considered 
in  connection  with  Diana/ 

'  There  are  stories  about  him  in  Home/  replied  Marco — 
'  unpleasant  stories.  Of  course,  you  do  not  hear  them, 
for  you  do  not  come  across  people  who  would  be  likely  to 
know  them.  I  should  advise  you  to  ask  Tomei ;  he  could 
tell  you  more  than  I  can,  for  he  seems  to  have  sources  of 
information  open  to  him  in  all  quarters/ 

( Ah,  Tomei ! '  observed  Cardinal  Savelli  thoughtfully. 
cYes,  Tomei  is  a  very  shrewd  man  of  business;  but  in 
this  case,  Marco,  I  should  suspect  him  of  being  biassed.' 

Marco  darted  a  keen  glance  at  his  uncle. 

'  Why  should  he  be  biassed  ?  '  he  said.  '  It  can  be  noth- 
ing to  him  what  Vane's  morals  may  be,  any  more  than 
it  is  to  me.  Less,  indeed;  for  I  am  sorry,  naturally, 
that  Lino  has  for  an  intimate  friend  a  man  who  is  not 
well  looked  upon.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  was  silent.  He  would  have  liked  to 
tell  his  nephew  everything;  how  he  had  been  led  to  draw 
from  Diana's  capital  in  order  to  meet  his  own  expenses 
and  protect  his  own  reputation,  and  how  difficult,  nay, 
impossible,  it  had  become  for  him  to  act  without  Mon- 
signor  Tomei's  co-operation  and  approval.  He  looked  at 
Marco  half  apologetically. 

*  Tomei  thoroughly  understands  my  financial  position/ 
he  said  presently.  '  Unf ortunately,  Marco,  that  position 
is  very  far  from  being  satisfactory,  as  you  know.  Tomei, 
also,  is  very  well  aware — in  fact,  he  has  explained  it  to 
me  only  too  clearly — that,  should  Diana  marry,  or  die,  I 
should  be  called  upon  to  deliver  up  her  fortune.  You 


DONNA   DIANA 

know/  he  continued  hurriedly,  'that  I  withdrew  a  con- 
siderable sum  in  order  to  help  you  at  a  very  critical  mo- 
ment, Marco.  I  am  not  in  a  position  at  present  to  re- 
place this  sum.' 

'I  do  not  see  how  the  fact  can  affect  Tomei's  opinion 
of  Vane/  said  Marco. 

'  Monsignor  Tomei  would  not  look  favourably  upon  any 
aspirant  to  Diana's  hand/  replied  Cardinal  Savelli.  '  He 
is  devoted  to  my  interests.  That  is  the  reason  why  I 
should  not  altogether  trust  his  judgment  concerning  Mr. 
Vane.  You  cannot  expect  sentiment  from  a  man  like 
Tomei!  But  the  question  does  not  apply  to  Mr.  Vane, 
or  to  any  particular  individual  who  might  happen  to  fall 
in  love  with  Diana.  It  is  a  matter  of  being  just  to  Diana 
herself.  I  fear  that  we  have  not  been  just  to  her — that 
we  have  not  sufficiently  taken  into  account  the  fact  that 
she  is  no  longer  a  child,  but  a  woman  whose  nature  is 
beginning  to  assert  itself.' 

'And  you  would  allow  nature  to  triumph  over  the  call 
of  religion?'  asked  Marco  dryly. 

'I  would  leave  her  free/  answered  Cardinal  Savelli, 
e  absolutely  free.  We  have  not  done  so,  Marco,  and  I  re- 
proach myself.  Yes/  he  added  with  a  sigh,  '  I  reproach 
myself,  because  I  realize  now  that  I  have  allowed  myself 
to  be  swayed  by  personal  motives  in  encouraging  Diana 
to  be  satisfied  that  she  had  a  vocation,  and  in  impressing 
upon  her  that  she  had  no  right  to  allow  worldly  things 
to  enter  into  her  life.  She  has  this  right,  otherwise  Al- 
mighty God  would  not  have  created  her  as  she  is.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  leaned  forward  in  his  chair  and  looked 
at  his  nephew  anxiously  as  he  uttered  these  last  words, 
and  Marco  noticed  that  his  face  twitched  nervously. 

The  Cardinal  intended  his  words  to  be  taken  as  a  con- 
fession of  the  dilemma  he  was  in  regarding  Diana's  for- 
tune, Marco  had  no  doubt.  But  he  was  convinced,  also, 
that  it  was  but  a  half-confession,  and  that  his  uncle  had 
shrunk  from  disclosing  his  true  position.  It  was  true 
that  Monsignor  Tomei,  certainly,  had  never  revealed  more 


DONNA   DIANA  275 

to  him  than  the  Cardinal  had  just  revealed,  save  only  the 
unfortunate  investment  of  a  portion  of  Diana's  money 
made  years  ago.  Cardinal  Savelli  had  not  alluded  to  this, 
but  merely  to  the  smaller  sum  used  to  assist  his  nephew 
out  of  difficulties  consequent  upon  unlucky  speculations. 
How  much,  Marco  wondered,  was  there  left  unrevealed 
that  both  his  uncle  and  Monsignor  Tomei  were  afraid 
should  come  to  his  knowledge? 

He  had  always  suspected  that  there  had  been  other  sums 
withdrawn  from  his  cousin's  capital  than  that  employed 
on  his  behalf,  and  he  had  felt  certain  that  Monsignor  To- 
mei was  aware  of  his  suspicion,  and  had  tried  to  remove 
it  by  a  pretence  of  frankness  and  confidence. 

The  present  juncture,  he  said  to  himself,  afforded  a 
very,  good  opportunity  for  ascertaining  how  far  these  sus- 
picions were  correct.  The  Cardinal  was  nervous  and  up- 
set, evidently  conscious  of  being  face  to  face  with  a  situa- 
tion that  might  at  any  moment  lead  to  his  maladministra- 
tion of  Diana's  money  being  discovered,  ready  to  seek 
other  counsels  than  those  of  Monsignor  Tomei,  though 
fearful  of  revealing  the  true  extent  of  his  difficulty. 

It  was,  perhaps,  characteristic  of  Marco  Savelli  to  pass 
over  his  uncle's  professed  scruples  of  conscience  as  to  hav- 
ing interfered  with  Diana's  liberty  of  choice  regarding 
her  future  life  with  contemptuous  scepticism.  Two  cir- 
cumstances alone,  Marco  assured  himself,  had  contributed 
to  Cardinal  Savelli's  change  of  attitude;  namely,  the  dis- 
covery that  Diana  might  fall  in  love,  had  she  not  already 
done  so,  and  the  fear  lest  she  might  die  of  her  present 
illness.  As  to  the  scruples  of  conscience,  they  were  merely 
born  of  a  dread  of  being  found  out. 

It  was  better  policy,  however,  to  affect  to  believe  in 
them,  and  after  a  pause,  during  which  Cardinal  Savelli 
absently  turned  over  the  letters  and  circulars  lying  upon 
his  writing-table,  he  observed: 

'  If  leaving  Diana  free  to  choose  is  to  entail  her  falling 
a  victim  to  a  man  like  Vane,  I  should  have  thought  no 
self-reproaches  for  having  tried  to  encourage  her  in  choos- 


276  DONNA   DIANA 

ing  a  religious  life  were  necessary.  Of  course,  I  under- 
stand that  you  would  never  have  wished  to  coerce  her,  but 
there  has  not  been  any  question  of  coercion.  Her  vocation 
has  been  entirely  spontaneous,  and  if  this  foreigner  had 
never  turned  up,  she  would  not  have  been  in  danger  of 
losing  it.  But  what  makes  you  so  sure  that  she  is  waver- 
ing in  her  mind  ?  ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  up  quickly. 

'  I  have  suspected  it  for  some  time/  he  said.  '  Diana 
has  known  that  Mr.  Vane  admired  her;  if  you  remember, 
Marco,  her  cousins  laughed  at  her  about  it,  and  you  were 
angry.' 

'  That  is  true  ! '  exclaimed  Marco.  '  But  how  did  you 
know,  uncle  ? ' 

'  Diana  told  me  herself,'  replied  the  Cardinal.  ( I  could 
see  that  it  had  made  a  certain  impression  upon  her.  Frau 
von  Raben  thinks  it  aroused  her  curiosity.  And  talking 
of  Frau  von  Eaben,  Marco,  I  think  that  she  has  been  a 
misfortune  to  Diana.  She  is  a  very  good  woman,  I  have 
no  doubt,  but  she  has  too  much  zeal.  The  latter  is  the 
failing  of  converts.  They  do  a  great  deal  of  harm  some- 
times, through  exercising  it.  Besides,  Frau  von  Raben  is 
—well — exaltee.  She  studies  sexual  problems,  and  women 
who  do  that  should  be  married.' 

Marco  Savelli  laughed. 

'  I  should  imagine  that  it  was  more  advisable,  certainly,' 
he  remarked. 

1  Diana  has  evidently  taken  a  violent  dislike  to  her,' 
proceeded  Cardinal  Savelli.  '  I  do  not  wish  to  inquire 
too  deeply  as  to  the  reasons  for  this  dislike,  and  of  course 
I  am  quite  ready  to  attribute  at  least  a  part  of  it  to  the 
effect  of  the  illness;  but  for  the  present,  at  least,  I  have 
thought  it  better  to  give  directions  that  Frau  von  Raben 
shall  not  have  access  to  Diana.' 

Marco  made  a  slight  exclamation  of  astonishment. 

<  But  she  is  devoted  to  Diana ! '  he  said.  '  I  think  it  is 
very  hard  upon  Frau  von  Raben.7 

Cardinal  Savelli  waved  his  hand. 


DONNA   DIANA  277 

'  I  cannot  help  that/  he  replied.  '  I  must  be  the  judge 
of  what  I  consider  best  for  Diana.  Henceforth,  Marco, 
I  wish  the  girl  to  be  free,  as  I  said  before.  Of  course, 
if  Mr.  Vane  is  unworthy  of  her,  she  must  be  persuaded 
to  think  no  more  about  him.  But,  having  once  thought 
of  a  man,  she  will  probably  do  so  again/  he  con- 
cluded. 

( But  how  do  you  know  she  has  thought  about  Vane  ? ' 
insisted  Marco. 

'  I  know  it  from  her  remarks  to-day — when  she  was 
delirious/  said  Cardinal  Savelli.  ( It  was  very  painful/" 
he  added ;  '  she  mistook  me  for  him/  and  he  looked  at 
his  nephew  quickly. 

(  She  mistook  you  for  him ! '  repeated  Marco  in  amaze- 
ment. '  And  what  did  she  say  ? '  he  continued  eagerly. 

The  Cardinal  sighed. 

t  It  does  not  matter  what  she  said/  he  replied ;  '  but  it 
was  sufficient  to  give  me  a  clue  to  the  real  state  of  her 
mind — sufficient,  also,  to  show  me  how  iniquitous  it 
would  be  to  continue  our  course  with  regard  to  her  sup- 
posed vocation.' 

Marco  Savelli  drew  his  chair  a  little  closer  to  the  writ- 
ing-table. 

'  So  you  intend  to  abandon  that  course  ? '  he  asked  in  a 
low  voice.  '  You  mean  to  allow  Diana  to  fall  a  prey  to 
any  man  who  wants  a  million  of  francs  ? ' 

'  You  think  of  nothing  but  Diana's  money/  said  Car- 
dinal Savelli  irritably.  t  Many  a  man  might  wish  to  marry 
her  for  other  reasons  than  the  fact  of  her  having  a  dot 
which,  after  all,  is  not  so  very  large.  You  forget  her 
beauty — and  you  forget  her  name/  he  added,  drawing 
himself  up. 

'  No/  returned  Marco ;  e  I  do  not  forget  her  beauty,  and 
of  course  anybody  might  be  glad  to  marry  a  Savelli.  But 
whoever  marries  her  will  want  to  see  her  fortune — the 
whole  of  her  fortune,  together  with  the  interest  that 
should  have  accumulated  during  the  years  it  has  been  in 
trust.  If  I  am  thinking  of  Diana's  money/  he  continued, 


378  DONNA   DIANA 

( I  am  doing  so  from  the  desire  not  to  see  you  embarrassed 
in  any  way.  Tomei  tells  me ' 

'  What  does  Tomei  tell  you  ? '  interrupted  the  Cardinal 
hastily.  f  Tomei  has  no  business  to  speak  about  my  affairs/ 

'  If  he  has  spoken  about  them/  proceeded  Marco  quietly, 
'  he  has  done  so  because  he  is  extremely  concerned  about 
them,  and  probably  thought  that  I  might  be  of  some  use 
in  helping  him  to  place  them  on  a  more  satisfactory  foot- 
ing. Forgive  me,  Uncle  Camillo,  if  I  speak  plainly.  Mon- 
signor  Tomei  has  not  concealed  from  me  the  fact  that 
you  have  at  different  times  been  compelled  to  borrow 
money  at  a  very  high  rate  of  interest.  He  has  not  con- 
cealed from  me  either  that  the  money  you  took  from 
Diana's  fortune  to  meet  the  losses  entailed  upon  me  by 
that  scoundrel  of  a  stock-broker's  dishonesty  is  not  the 
only  sum  you  have  been  obliged  to  withdraw  from  the 
same  source.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  started  up  from  his  chair  and  stood 
looking  imploringly  at  his  nephew. 

'  Tomei  told  you  that ! '  he  exclaimed,  and  his  voice 
trembled  as  he  spoke.  '  Tomei  told  you ! '  and  then  he 
dropped  into  his  chair  again  and  sat  gazing  in  front  of 
him  with  a  rigid  stare. 

( Yes/  said  Marco,  in  smooth,  level  tones.  (  Monsignor 
Tomei  told  me.  He  told  me  more.  He  expressed  himself 
as  afraid  that  there  had  been  other  sums  withdrawn  with- 
out his  knowledge,  also  that  you  had  never  been  able  to 
find  a  market  for  certain  shares  bought  some  years  ago 
with  a  considerable  part  of  Diana's  capital,  shares  which 
were  supposed  to  be  going  to  pay  a  good  interest,  but 
which  have  paid  none.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  interrupted  him.  The  same  fixed  stare 
was  alway^  in  his  eyes.  He  did  not  turn  his  head  as  he 
spoke,  nor  did  the  expression  of  his  face  alter. 

'  What  shares  ? '  he  asked  dully.  '  None  of  Diana's 
money  has  been  reinvested.  It  is  all  in  the  bank,  which 
pays  three  and  a  half  per  cent,  interest  upon  it — all,  that 


DONNA   DIANA  279 

'  Ah ! 9  said  Marco,  '  I  must  have  misunderstood  Mon- 
signor  Tomei  over  this  point.  It  does  not  signify;  in- 
deed, I  am  very  glad  that  in  this,  at  least,  I  am  mis- 
taken/ 

'And  the  other  sum,  Marco/  returned  the  Cardinal 
eagerly,  '  I  was  compelled  to — to  borrow  it  from  Diana. 
I  had  no  other  choice.  As  Tomei  has  told  you,  there  is 
no  reason  why  I  should  conceal  it  from  you.  I  should 
have  been  disgraced,  ruined,  had  I  not  been  able  to  replace 
the  hundred  thousand  francs  I  borrowed  from  the  Banco 
Popolare.  You  know  how  suspicious  they  are  at  the  Vat- 
ican where  money  is  concerned.' 

'  Very  naturally/  interposed  Marco  Savelli. 

6  Oh,  very  naturally,  of  course.  We  have  had  so  many 
pecuniary  scandals  lately.' 

( Precisely/  said  Marco  significantly.  '  It  is  all  the 
more  necessary  to  prevent  another  from  coming  to  light. 
This  is  exactly  what  Tomei  is  afraid  of.' 

( What  do  you  mean,  Marco  ? '  asked  Cardinal  Savelli 
hastily. 

'  It  is  no  time  to  waste  words/  replied  the  latter  ab- 
ruptly. e  Tomei  is  extremely  uneasy  as  to  what  may  oc- 
cur in  the  near  future.  He  has  explained  to  me  the  very 
perilous  position  into  which  you  have  drifted,  and  he  has 
suggested  to  you  a  way,  the  only  way,  out  of  it.  Tomei 
is  not,  as  you  say,  a  man  to  regard  sentimentality,  and 
we  cannot  expect  him  to  consider  a  girl's  foolish  dreams 
concerning  a  man  he  knows  to  be  addicted  to  very  ques- 
tionable pleasures.  When  Diana  is  in  a  convent,  Uncle 
Camillo,  you  will  be  safe.  As  long  as  she  remains  in  the 
world,  you  are  exposed  to — well — to  very  unpleasant  risks. 
That  is  Tomei's  opinion,  and  it  is  also  mine.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  chair  and  stood  in  front 
of  his  nephew.  The  vacant  stare  had  vanished  from  his 
face,  and  in  its  place  was  a  look  of  anger  and  contempt. 
He  drew  himself  up  haughtily,  and  at  that  moment  he 
looked  what  birth  had  made  him. 

'  I  have  suffered  enough  from  listening  to  Monsignor 


280  DONNA   DIANA 

Tomer's  opinion/  he  exclaimed.  '  Cardinal  Savelli  may 
have  listened  to  a  priest's  counsels,  but  in  this  case  Prince 
Savelli  will  listen  to  his  own.  Do  you  understand  me, 
Marco?  I  will  not  be  driven  to  commit  this  infamy,  this 
sacrilege.  I,  Camillo  Savelli,  the  head  of  our  house,  will 
not  sacrifice  my  niece  in  order  to  save  myself  from  the 
consequences  of  what  I  have  done.  If  I  am  to  suffer  scorn 
and  dishonour  at  the  hands  of  men  I  will  suffer  them. 
These  are  the  risks  from  which  you  and  Tomei  profess  a 
desire  to  save  me,  but  you  do  not  hesitate  to  encourage 
me  to  risk  the  everlasting  anger  of  God,  the  dishonour  of 
self-contempt,  the  ceaseless  torture  of  self-reproach/ 

Marco  SaveRi's  manner  changed  instantly,  and  his  voice 
and  attitude  from  being  threatening  became  apologetic 
and  cringing. 

This  burst  of  outraged  pride  on  the  part  of  the  Cardinal 
was  as  embarrassing  as  it  was  unexpected.  A  moment 
ago  the  latter  had  seemed  to  be  crushed  and  impotent,  a 
man  whose  conscience  had  made  a  coward  of  him,  and  who 
would  seize,  reluctantly,  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  cer- 
tainly, at  any  chance  offered  to  him  of  concealing  his  dis- 
honour from  the  world. 

'I  had  no  idea  that  Diana's  vocation  was  not  perfectly 
genuine/  Marco  said  quickly.  '  Of  course,  had  she  con- 
tinued in  her  determination  to  become  a  nun,  it  would 
have  been  easier  for  you  to  have  extricated  yourself  from 
these  difficulties  without  injuring  her  in  any  way.  That 
is  what  Monsignor  Tomei  hoped  might  be  possible,  and  I 
— I  could  see  no  harm  in  hoping  it  also/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  shook  his  head. 

'No/  he  said,  'I  cannot  extricate  myself — not  in  that 
way/ 

The  anger  had  faded  from  his  face,  and  in  its  place  had 
come  an  expression  of  sadness.  '  I  did  not  mean  to  re- 
proach you,  Marco/  he  continued  gently,  '  for  I  know  that 
you  are  only  thinking  of  how  you  can  best  help  me;  but 
you  can  understand.  I  have  deceived  myself  too  long, 
and  were  I  to  continue  to  do  so,  it  would  no  longer  be 


DONNA   DIANA  281 

self-deception,,  indeed,  but  cowardice.  You  could  not  urge 
me  to  that.  Tomei,  perhaps,  would  not  see  it  in  the  same 
light,  but  Tomei  is  not-  of  our  class,  and  I  cannot  stoop 
to  defend  myself  by  the  means  he  suggests.' 

Cardinal  Savelli's  voice  was  almost  pleading  in  its  tone, 
and  he  looked  at  his  nephew  anxiously.  The  latter  was 
very  much  to  him,  and  no  father  could  have  been  more 
indulgent  to  a  son  than  he  had  been  to  Marco.  His  gen- 
erosity to  him  had  often,  as  he  well  knew,  been  greater 
than  his  means  had  justified,  and,  after  all,  it  had  been 
to  benefit  Marco  that  he  had  first  commenced  his  encroach- 
ments on  the  capital  he  held  in  trust  for  Diana. 

How  often  had  he  since  regretted  that  he  had  listened 
to  Monsignor  Tomei's  advice,  and  persuaded  himself  of 
the  legitimacy  of  employing  Diana's  money  to  save  family 
credit !  How  bitterly  had  he  deplored  that,  when  temp- 
tation came  to  save  his  own  credit  in  the  same  way 
as  he  had  saved  that  of  his  nephew,  he  had  so  easily 
allowed  Monsignor  Tomei  to  persuade  him  into  yielding 
to  it! 

Tomei  was  a  good  man  of  business — the  Cardinal  had 
told  himself  again  and  again  of  late — but  low-born, .  and 
his  standard  of  honour  was  that  of  his  order.  But  Marco 
— Marco  was,  like  himself,  a  Savelli.  Marco  could  realize 
how,  notwithstanding  past  weakness,  past  folly,  his  honour 
had  revolted  at  the  final  indignity  which  he  had  been 
tempted  to  impose  upon  it. 

Cardinal  Savelli's  gaze  rested  on  his  nephew  anxiously, 
but  Marco  maintained  a  moody  silence.  Presently  the 
Cardinal  spoke  again. 

(  This  Mr.  Vane/  he  said,  as  though  struck  by  a  sudden 
thought,  'he  has  never  been  to  see  me,  though  I  asked 
him  to  do  so.  That  was  some  months  ago,  however,  be- 
fore I  had  any  idea  that  there  could  be  anything  between 
him  and  Diana.  If  he  is  really  in  love  with  Diana,  why 
cannot  he  come  to  me  as  her  guardian?  It  would  be  the 
natural  thing  to  do.' 

Marco  laughed  scornfully. 


282  DONNA   DIANA 

'He  dares  not/  he  said.  'Vane  probably  knows  what 
I  think  of  him.  Anyhow/  he  added,  '  the  very  fact  of  his 
not  having  done  so  is  proof  that  he  is  conducting  his  plans 
in  an  underhand  manner.  Diana  and  he  must  have  had 
some  opportunity  of  meeting  unknown  to  any  of  us,  and 
he  must  have  told  her  of  his  love.' 

*  Yes/  said  Cardinal  Savelli  tranquilly,  '  I  should  think 
you  were  right  as  to  their  having  met  elsewhere  than  in 
your  aunt's  drawing-rooms/ 

'  And  is  not  that  a  disgraceful  thing  ? '  exclaimed  Marco. 
'  What  must  a  man  be  to  place  a  young  girl  in  such  a 
position  ? ' 

'I  wish  he  would  come  to  me/  said  Cardinal  Savelli 
meditatively;  'it  would  make  things  easier.' 

'But  if  he  is  a  scoundrel?'  burst  out  Marco  hotly. 
'  You  surely  would  not  give  him  so  much  encouragement, 
Uncle  Camillo!  Whatever  you  may  choose  to  decide  as 
to  Diana's  future,  at  least  she  should  be  protected  from 
this  parasite  of  Lino's.' 

'What  you  have  heard  about  him  may  be  untrue/  ob- 
served the  Cardinal.  'You  know  what  Eome  is.  People 
are  always  ready  to  spread  ill-natured  reports.  I  shall 
make  some  inquiries  myself  about  him,  Marco.' 

Marco  Savelli  scowled  angrily. 

'  Of  course,  you  must  do  as  you  choose/  he  replied 
sullenly.  '  I  have  warned  you,  Uncle  Oamillo,  and  up  to 
now  you  have  always  listened  to  me.  One  would  think/ 
he  added  impatiently,  'that  somebody  had  been  speaking 
to  you  and  obliging  you  to  abandon  the  course  you  have 
hitherto  pursued  concerning  Diana's  future.  I  must  say 
it  is  very  extraordinary  that  the  girl's  ravings  should  have 
had  such  an  effect  upon  you.  Probably  when  Diana  is 
well  she  will  be  as  anxious  to  commence  her 'novitiate  as 
she  was  before  this  illness.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  steadily  for  a  moment  or 
two,  and  then  he  gave  a  slight  gesture  of  surprise,  and, 
perhaps  of  disappointment. 

'Yes/  he  said  quietly,  'you  are  quite  right,  somebody 


DONNA   DIANA  283 

has  been  speaking  to  me — somebody  to  whom  I  dare  not 
refuse  to  listen ; '  and  he  turned  away  abruptly  as  his 
nephew  stared  at  him,  uncertain  as  to  the  meaning  of 
his  words.  '  Now/  he  added  wearily,  ( leave  me,  Marco ; 
I  want  to  be  alone.  At  four  o'clock  I  shall  return  to 
Palazzo  San  Eocco,  and  until  then  I  do  not  wish  to  be 
disturbed.' 


CHAPTEE   XXIII 

FOR  some  days  Diana  remained  in  a  critical  condition. 

Sister  Agnese  and  Ersilia  were  her  constant  attendants, 
and  Cardinal  Savelli  would  pay  her  a  visit  both  morning 
and  evening.  His  presence  seemed  to  quiet  her,  though 
she  had  never  as  yet  recognised  him.  Frau  von  Raben 
had  not  again  entered  her  room,  though  Diana,  when  the 
fever  was  at  all  higher  than  usual,  never  ceased  to  im- 
plore that  she  might  be  prevented  from  doing  so.  Prin- 
cess San  Rocco  had  altogether  failed  to  soothe  Frau  von 
Raben's  injured  feelings,  and  the  atmosphere  of  Palazzo 
San  Rocco  seemed  to  be  charged  with  electricity  in  con- 
sequence. At  last  a  happy  thought  had  struck  the  Prin- 
cess. In  reality,  this  thought  had  originated  with  Prince 
San  Rocco,  who  disliked  anything  in  the  shape  of  domestic 
disturbances.  The  Prince,  however,  had  been  far  too  pru- 
dent to  claim  the  idea  as  his  own,  and  had  contented  him- 
self with  cautiously  throwing  out  a  suggestion,  leaving 
it  to  ripen  in  his  wife's  mind,  with  apparent  indifference 
as  to  whether  it  came  to  full  maturity. 

It  was  by  this  time  the  middle  of  June.  In  another 
fortnight  or  so  the  establishment  of  Casa  San  Rocco 
would,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  move  to  Magnano, 
the  quaint  old  place,  half  villa,  half  castle,  where  the 
family  were  in  the  habit  of  migrating  immediately  after 
the  festival  of  St.  Peter,  to  pass  the  remainder  of  the 
summer  and  autumn. 

Princess  San  Rocco  thought  that  it  would  relax  the 
tension  of  the  situation  if  she  sent  her  two  daughters  to 
Magnano  with  Frau  von  Raben,  where  they  could  remain 
until  she  and  her  husband  should  be  able  to  join  them. 
It  would  necessarily  be  some  little  time  before  Diana  could 

284 


DONNA   DIANA  285 

be  moved,  and  the  Prince  was  becoming  fidgety.  Frau 
von  Eaben's  aggrieved  looks  and  manners  got  upon  his 
nerves,  though  he  rarely  saw  her  except  at  meals;  and 
the  Princess  herself  felt  that  she  would  be  glad  no  longer 
to  have  to  listen  to  her  gloomy  prognostications  as  to 
Diana's  future,  both  temporal  and  eternal.  Prince  San 
Eocco  affected  to  demur  when  his  wife  broached  the  sub- 
ject of  Magnano  to  him  as  a  happy  inspiration  a  few  days 
after  he  had  suggested  it  to  her.  It  would  be  both  in- 
convenient and  expensive,  he  declared,  to  have  two  es- 
tablishments going  on  at  the  same  time;  besides,  nobody 
had  ever  gone  to  Magnano  before  St.  Peter's  Day,  and  it 
was  a  great  mistake  to  depart  from  old  traditions. 

The  Princess  speedily  found  arguments  to  meet  all  ob- 
jections, and,  greatly  to  Prince  San  Eocco's  satisfaction, 
it  had  been  finally  decided  that  Frau  von  Eaben  should 
take  Donna  Giulia  and  Donna  Maria  into  the  country. 
The  chief  objections  to  the  plan  had  come  from  Frau  von 
Eaben  herself,  and  from  Marco  Savelli.  The  former, 
however,  was  unable  to  say  very  much,  since  she  was  en- 
gaged as  dame  de  compagnie  to  the  Princess's  daughters, 
and  not  to  her  niece ;  and,  moreover,  Cardinal  Savelli  had 
warmly  advocated  the  proposal. 

Prince  San  Eocco  had  other  reasons  for  satisfaction  at 
the  departure  of  Frau  von  Eaben  than  mere  relief  at  not 
seeing  her  injured  expression  of  countenance  whenever 
he  chanced  to  look  up  from  his  plate  at  breakfast  and 
dinner. 

His  nephew,  Lino  Savelli,  had  returned  to  Eome  a  few 
days  after  Diana's  relapse,  and  Lino  and  he  had  had  sev- 
eral conversations  together. 

As  the  former  told  Vane  would  be  the  case,  the  Prince 
had  been  extremely  angry  when  he  heard  of  the  story  which 
had  been  circulated  as  to  his  nephew  having  been  bribed 
by  Vane  to  help  the  latter  to  gain  Diana's  affection,  and 
of  Lino's  de  ots  having  been  paid  by  him. 

Lino  Savelli  had  assured  his  uncle  that,  in  the  first 
place,  he  had  no  debts,  save  of  a  very  ordinary  and  in- 


286  DONNA   DIANA 

significant  character,  and  that,  even  supposing  him  to 
have  them,  Vane  would  certainly  not  have  been  so  indis- 
creet as  to  offer  to  pay  them, 

It  had  been  Lino's  intention  to  have  said  a  great  deal 
more,  and  to  have  endeavoured  to  open  his  uncle's  eyes 
to  the  mysterious  system  of  intrigue  by  which  he  was  con- 
vinced Diana  was  surrounded. 

To  his  surprise,  however,  he  found  the  situation  had 
entirely  changed  during  his  absence  at  Turin.  The  Car- 
dinal, whom  he  had  more  than  suspected  of  being  the 
dupe  of  those  who  were  seeking  for  their  own  ends  to 
drive  Diana  into  taking  the  veil,  was  now,  according  to 
all  he  could  learn  at  Palazzo  San  Eocco,  possessed  of  the 
idea  that  she  had  not  been  allowed  sufficient  liberty  of 
choice,  and  appeared  to  have  taken  up  an  entirely  different 
position.  Frau  von  Eaben,  too,  was  safely  at  Magnano, 
and  Ersilia,  with  triumph  in  her  eyes  and  in  her  voice, 
had  explained  to  him  how  madama  had  been  forbidden 
by  the  direct  orders  of  His  Eminence,  to  approach  Diana. 
This  altered  condition  of  affairs  caused  Lino  the  greatest 
relief.  He  had  been  wondering  how  he  should  reveal  to 
Prince  San  Eocco  all  his  suspicions.  It  would  have  been, 
as  Yane  had  said,  a  very  awkward  business,  for  to  speak 
his  mind  clearly  would  have  meant  casting  reflections 
upon  the  honour  both  of  his  brother  and  of  his  uncle  the 
Cardinal. 

Prince  San  Eocco,  when  he  heard  the  motives  which 
had  been  imputed  to  his  favourite  nephew  for  attempting 
to  advance  his  friend's  cause,  had  announced  his  inten- 
tion of  immediately  expressing  both  to  Marco  and  the  Car- 
dinal his  indignation  that  such  a  calumny  should  have 
been  permitted  to  be  repeated  with  impunity. 

Nor  was  the  Prince  less  angry  on  Edmund  Vane's  ac- 
count. He  had  never  forgotten  the  latter's  conduct  to- 
wards Lino  after  the  Abyssinian  War,  and,  th  agh  he  had 
seen  but  little  of  his  nephew's  English  frier  i  and  deliv- 
erer, he  had  been  very  favourably  impressed  by  him. 

If  Vane  wanted  to  marry  Diana,  and  the  girl  had  begun 


DONNA   DIANA  287 

to  like  him,  why  should  she  not  be  allowed  to  marry  him 
instead  of  burying  herself  in  a  convent,  always  supposing 
that  there  was  nothing  against  him?  This  was  the  drift 
of  Prince  San  Kocco's  arguments,  so  far  as  he  argued  at 
all,  and  Lino  Savelli  quite  agreed  with  him. 

Prince  San  Kocco,  to  be  sure,  had  been  a  little  scan- 
dalized on  hearing  from  his  nephew  of  the  means  which 
had  been  resorted  to  in  order  to  allow  Vane  an  oppor- 
tunity of  telling  Diana  of  his  love. 

Such  a  proceeding  was  entirely  contrary  to  all  traditions, 
though  the  Prince  was  obliged  to  admit  that  under  the 
circumstances  Vane  could  have  looked  to  no  other  oppor- 
tunity of  making  Diana  acquainted  with  the  state  of  his 
feelings,  and  that,  at  all  events,  he  had  behaved  like  a 
gentleman  in  not  making  any  attempt  to  interfere  with 
Diana's  resolutions.  Lino  was  very  particular  to  impress 
this  fact  upon  his  uncle,  and  also  the  fact  that  Diana's 
attitude  had  been  such  as  to  admit  of  no  justification  of 
any  demand  on  Vane's  part  to  speak  to  him,  or  to  the 
Cardinal,  on  the  subject — a  thing,  he  had  added,  that 
Edmund  would  not  presume  to  do  until  he  had  some  rea- 
son to  believe  that  Diana  was  not  wholly  indifferent  to 
his  love. 

'Your  friend  has  behaved  well,  Lino/  said  Prince  San 
Eocco ;  <  I  don't  say  that  he  hasn't — always  excepting  his 
stolen  interview  with  Diana.  But  luckily  you  and  Ersilia 
were  there — and — well,  I  shall  not  say  anything  to  your 
aunt  about  the  matter,  lest  Ersilia  should  suffer  for  the 
folly  of  you  two  boys.  But,'  he  added,  looking  at  his 
nephew  curiously,  'I  am  bound  to  tell  you  that  we  have 
not  heard  a  very  good  account  of  Mr.  Vane  of  late — not 
such  an  account  as  would  recommend  him  as  a  husband 
for  Diana,  even  were  there  no  other  obstacles  in  his  way.' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  Uncle  Fabrizio  ?  *  asked  Lino,  sur- 
prised. 

( Well,  I  hear  that  his  life  is  not  all  that  it  should  be — 
very  much  the  reverse,  in  fact — deplorably  much  the  re- 
verse ! ' 


288  DONNA   DIANA 

Lino  Savelli  burst  out  laughing. 

(  What  is  he  supposed  to  do  ?  *  he  inquired  dryly.  *  If 
anybody  knows  Vane,  I  should  say  that  I  am  that  person. 
Do  you  think  that  I  would  encourage  him  to  marry  Diana 
if  I  were  not  certain  that  he  was  in  every  way  worthy,  not 
only  to  marry  her,  but  to  enter  into  our  family?' 

( No/  answered  Prince  San  Eocco  hesitatingly,  ( I  am 
quite  sure  you  would  not,  Lino;  but ' 

'  Then  perhaps  you  believe  the  story  that  he  has  made 
it  worth  my  while  to  help  him  ? '  burst  out  Lino  hotly. 

c  Certainly  not ! '  exclaimed  his  uncle  indignantly.  '  It 
is  not  that/  he  continued.  'But  Marco  has  heard  things 
about  him ' 

'  Ah,  Marco ! '  Lino  interrupted  bitterly.  '  Some  tittle- 
tattle  of  the  sacristy,  I  suppose.  I  believe  Eddie's  pious 
female  compatriots  here  hate  him  because  he  has  the  good 
sense  to  think  for  himself  on  things  concerning  our  coun- 
try, instead  of  listening  to  the  priests.  No  doubt  they, 
and  the  monsignori  who  attend  their  "  five  o'clocks,"  have 
started  some  gossip  about  him.  I  should  like  to  know 
what  you  have  heard.' 

*  Oh ! '  replied  Prince  San  Kocco,  '  nothing  definite,  you 
know — nothing  that  could  actually  be  proved.' 

e  Of  course  not !  That  is  always  the  way  the  sacristy 
goes  to  work/  interrupted  Lino  Savelli.  '  Definite  accu- 
sations are  very  seldom  made;  it  would  be  too  dangerous.' 

Prince  San  Eocco  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'Yes/  he  said,  'the  priests  are  very  good  at  hinting 
away  the  reputations  of  those  they  dislike;  but,  after  all, 
nobody  pays  much  heed  to  what  they  say,  except,  perhaps, 
the  women.  They  are  all  very  well  in  church,  but  out  of 
it— mah!  They  are  like  one's  doctor  and  one's  lawyer — 
the  less  one  has  to  do  with  them  professionally,  the  better. 
Your  uncle  Camillo,  now,  he  has  got  an  idea  into  his  head 
that  your  friend  Vane  is  a  mauvais  sujet.  Somebody  has 
put  it  there,  of  course.  I  don't  believe  it  myself.  And 
now  you  have  told  me  how  scrupulous  he  has  been  in  his 
dealings  with  Diana,  I  believe  it  less  than  ever/ 


DONNA    DIANA  289 

'You  had  better  see  Vane  yourself/  said  Lino  quickly. 
( When  you  know  him  better,  you  will  be  able  to  judge 
whether  these  stories,  whatever  they  may  be,  are  likely 
to  be  any  truer  than  the  lie  that  has  been  told  of  me  in 
connection  with  this  business/ 

Prince  San  Eocco  gave  an  angry  exclamation. 

'  I  shall  take  care  that  so  disgraceful  a  thing  is  not  said 
of  you  any  more,  Lino/  he  replied.  '  Whoever  has  started 
that  story  shall  be  made  to  contradict  it.  I  shall  speak 
to  your  uncle  Camillo  about  it,  and  to  Marco.  It  can  never 
have  reached  their  ears,  of  course,  or  they  would  have 
contradicted  it.  Moreover,  they  would  have  told  your  aunt 
and  me,  had  they  known  such  a  tale  was  being  spread 
about  Rome.' 

Lino  Savelli  smiled  quietly. 

'  If  you  do  not  mind,  uncle,  I  would  much  prefer  that 
you  should  say  nothing  about  it — not  to  anybody  at  all — 
neither  to  my  aunt,  nor  to  the  Cardinal  and  Marco. 
Neither  Vane  nor  I  care  very  much,  as  we  know  how 
absurd  an  idea  it  is.  But  I  have  another  reason  for  not 
wishing  anything  to  be  said  at  present.' 

'  And  what  is  this  other  reason  ?  '  asked  the  Prince.  '  It 
appears  to  me/  he  added,  '  that  neither  you  nor  Vane  can 
afford  to  allow  such  a  story  to  be  told  about  you  without 
contradiction.' 

'  It  will  contradict  itself  in  the  long-run/  said  Lino 
calmly.  ( Most  calumnies  do  so.  My  reason  for  not 
wishing  it  to  be  taken  up  at  present  is  that  by  keeping 
quiet  we  shall  certainly  find  out  the  motives  for  which 
these  stories  have  been  told.  I  suppose/  he  added  sud- 
denly, '  that  the  doctors  are  quite  satisfied  as  to  the  illness 
of  Diana's  being  typhoid?' 

Prince  San  Rocco  looked  at  him  sharply. 

'Of  course  it  is  typhoid/  he  said.  ' What  else  should  it  be  ? 
Besides,  there  was  never  a  doubt  of  its  nature,  and  Vacelli 
was  called  in  as  soon  as  Diana  had  this  sudden  relapse.' 

e  If  you  have  had  Vacelli/  returned  Lino,  ( I  am  quite 
satisfied,  and  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.' 


290  DONNA   DIANA 

'I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Lino/  said  the  Prince 
San  Rocco  uneasily. 

'  Oh,  nothing ! '  replied  his  nephew  carelessly ;  but  their 
eyes  met  for  an  instant,  and  then  both  looked  away.  '  We 
must  hope  that  Diana  will  soon  be  out  of  any  danger/ 
Lino  continued.  (  When  she  is  convalescent,  we  shall  see 
whether  she  is  still  determined  to  become  a  nun.' 

6 1  believe  she  has  had  misgivings  on  the  subject/  said 
Prince  San  Rocco,  'and  I  confess  that  I  should  not  be 
sorry  if  it  were  so.  It  would  be  certainly  a  great  pity  if 
Diana  were  buried  in  a  convent.  I  have  always  said  so, 
but,  until  quite  recently,  I  have  never  been  listened  to. 
Now,  it  seems,  your  uncle  Camillo  has  also  some  doubts 
as  to  whether  her  supposed  vocation  should  be  taken 
seriously,  and  he  has  communicated  his  doubts  to  your 
aunt.  I  fancy/ -added  the  Prince,  'that  Diana  has  said 
some  strange  things  during  her  periods  of  delirium,  and 
your  uncle  Camillo  has  heard  them.  After  all,  he  is  a 
man  of  the  world — at  least,  he  has  been  a  man  of  the  world 
— and  he  will  have  been  able  to  put  two  and  two  together/ 

e  A  single  couple  would  be  quite  sufficient  in  this  case/ 
said  Lino. 

Prince  San  Rocco  laughed. 

*  Yes/  he  replied,  e  I  really  begin  to  think  it  would.  We 
are  quite  uneasy  about  the  Cardinal/  he  continued. 
( Diana's  illness  seems  to  have  had  an  extraordinary  effect 
upon  him.  I  had  no  idea  he  was  so  fond  of  her.  I  always 
thought  that  your  brother  Marco  was  the  only  one  of  his 
family  whom  he  really  cared  about.  However,  it  seems 
I  was  mistaken.  He  has  aged  lately,  and  appears  to  be 
nervous  and  preoccupied — quite  unlike  his  usual  self.' 

'  And  you  say  that  he  expresses  himself  as  anxious  that 
Diana  should  be  left  absolute  freedom  to  decide  as  to  her 
future?'  said  Lino  Savelli. 

( He  appears  almost  feverishly  anxious  that  she  should 
not  be  made  to  feel  under  any  spiritual  obligation  to  take 
the  veil/  answered  the  Prince.  '  At  least,  so  your  aunt 
tells  me/  he  added.  'I  have  not  spoken  much  with  him 


DONNA   DIANA  291 

on  the  subject.  It  is  no  manner  of  use  my  interfering 
in  such  matters.  It  was  your  uncle  Camillo  who  forbade 
Frau  von  Eaben  to  talk  any  more  to  Diana;  and,  indeed, 
it  is  owing  to  him  that  she  is  at  Magnano  now,  for  which 
God  be  praised !  for  her  face,  since  she  was  told  not  to  go 
to  Diana's  room  any  more,  was  enough  to  turn  milk  sour, 
and  it  quite  took  away  my  appetite  at  dinner  to  look  at  her.' 

Lino  smiled,  but  did  not  speak  again  for  a  few  moments. 
The  turn  affairs  had  taken  puzzled  him  considerably,  and 
he  found  himself  wondering  as  to  how  far  he  had  wronged 
the  Cardinal  by  his  suspicions  that  the  latter  was  acting 
in  his  own  interests  in  encouraging  Diana  to  enter  a  con- 
vent. The  more  he  thought  over  the  matter,  the  more 
convinced  he  was  that  the  best  policy  for  him  and  Vane 
to  adopt  was  quietly  to  await  the  development  of  events. 
If,  as  was  most  probable,  Diana  passed  safely  through  this 
crisis  in  her  illness,  she  would  soon  enter  the  convalescent 
stage ;  and  then  they  might  be  able  to  learn  something  con- 
cerning the  true  state  of  her  mind. 

It  would  be  time  enough  for  Eddie  to  make  a  formal 
demand  for  her  hand  when  it  became  obvious  that  she  had 
changed  her  intention  to  enter  religion. 

The  stories  told  to  Vane's  detriment  Lino  scarcely  re- 
garded, concluding  very  rightly  that  they  proceeded  from 
the  same  quarter  as  the  invention  respecting  himself. 
That  Cardinal  Savelli  had  been  duly  made  acquainted 
with  these  stories,  and  that  he  had  in  all  probability  be- 
lieved them  to  be  true,  he  did  not  doubt  for  an  instant. 
The  stories,  however,  as  he  had  quietly  assured  Prince 
San  Bocco,  would  eventually  contradict  themselves. 

In  the  meantime,  it  would  only  be  necessary  to  discover 
the  real  motives  for  which  they  had  been  invented  in  order 
materially  to  strengthen  Edmund  Vane's  cause  when  the 
moment  came  formally  to  advance  it. 


CHAPTEE    XXIV 

THE  hopes  entertained  by  the  doctors  that  Diana  would 
emerge  safely  from  the  crisis  of  her  illness  were  fully 
realized. 

The  fever  gradually  left  her,  recurring  at  longer  inter- 
vals, so  that,  as  had  been  the  case  before  her  relapse,  her 
temperature  in  the  mornings  had  sunk  to  normal.  As 
time  went  on,  even  the  rise  that  had  hitherto  persistently 
returned  towards  evening  subsided,  and  she  was  pro- 
nounced to  be  rapidly  approaching  convalescence. 

For  some  days  Cardinal  Savelli  had  studiously  avoided 
.any  topic  of  conversation  with  his  niece  that  could  excite 
her,  though  he  continued  his  daily  visits  to  her  with  un- 
failing regularity.  She  had  been  told^that  Frau  von  Eaben 
was  at  Magnano  with  her  cousins,  but  the  information 
had  elicited  no  comment  from  her. 

It  was  not  until  Diana  had  been  allowed  to  leave  her 
bed  and  to  lie  for  a  few  hours  daily  on  a  sofa  in  the  adjoin- 
ing room  that  Princess  San  Rocco,  acting  on  the  Cardinal's 
instructions,  asked  her  whether  she  still  wished  to  receive 
a  visit  from  Madame  de  Bonneval. 

Diana  looked  up  quickly  as  the  Princess  asked  her  the 
question,  and  her  face  flushed  with  pleasure. 

(  Madame  de  Bonneval  ? '  she  exclaimed  eagerly.  '  Oh 
yes,  Aunt  Vittoria,  of  course  I  should  like  to  see  her.  But 
how  did  you  know  that  I  wanted  to  do  so  ? ' 

Princess  San  Rocco  looked  confused,  and  hesitated  for 
a  moment  before  answering. 

e  You  often  asked  for  her  when  you  were  ill/  she  said, 
'  so  we  thought  you  might  like  to  see  her  now  you  are  so 
much  better/ 

Diana  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

292 


DONNA    DIANA  293 

'  Yes/  she  replied,  '  I  think  I  remember;  but  things  still 
seem  to  be  all  confused  in  my  mind.  There  was  something 
I  wanted  to  ask  her  about ' 

She  stopped  short  suddenly,  and  withdrew  her  gaze  from 
the  Princess's  face. 

'Do  not  try  to  think,  Diana/  the  latter  said  hastily. 
'  You  are  weak  still — that  is  what  makes  you  feel  confused 
in  your  mind.  By  degrees  you  will  become  stronger,  and 
then  you  will  not  feel  confused  any  more.  If  you  would 
like  to  see  Madame  de  Bonneval,  she  will  come  to  pay  you 
a  visit  to-morrow  afternoon.' 

'It  seems  years  and  years  since  I  have  seen  her/  an- 
swered Diana.  '  But  how  can  she  come  to  see  me  ? '  she 
added. 

'  Well/  said  the  Princess  San  Rocco,  smiling,  '  this  is  a 
very  special  circumstance.  You  must  know  that  your 
uncle  Camillo  has  made  a  personal  request  to  the  Holy 
Father  that  Madame  de  Bonneval  should  be  allowed  to 
leave  the  Sacre  Cceur  for  a  short  time  in  order  to  pay  you 
a  visit,  and  the  Mother  Superior,  at  the  Pope's  notification 
of  his  wish,  has  permitted  it.  She  will  come  to-morrow 
afternoon  at  four  o'clock,  and  then  you  can  have  a  little 
talk  with  her.' 

Diana  smiled,  and  the  Princess  somewhat  abruptly 
changed  the  conversation.  She  began  to  tell  her  niece  of 
what  the  latter's  cousins  were  doing  at  Magnano,  and 
talked  of  the  possible  date  by  which  Diana  would  be  well 
enough  to  join  them  there. 

Diana  lay  still  and  listened  to  her,  or,  rather,  she  pre- 
tended to  listen,  for  she  was  striving  to  collect  her  ideas. 
The  past  few  weeks  seemed  to  be  a  period  of  chaos,  out 
of  which,  however,  stood  a  few  details — islands  of  facts, 
as  it  were,  upon  which  she  could  fix  her  wandering 
thoughts. 

More  prominently  than  all  the  rest  stood  out  the  scene 
in  the  gardens  of  the  Palazzo  Castelnuovo — the  last  episode 
of  which  she  felt  she  had  any  clear  recollection  before 
illness  had  overtaken  her. 


294  DONNA   DIANA 

She  seemed  to  hear  again  the  tones  of  Edmund  Vane's 
voice,  to  see  the  expression  of  his  eyes  as  they  had  looked 
pleadingly  down  into  hers.  Surely  it  had  not  been  so  very 
long  ago  that  she  had  seen  him  ?  Had  he  not  come  to  her 
when  she  was  ill,  sat  and  looked  at  her,  and  told  her  that 
God  would  not  be  angry? 

Ah  no!  That  was  a  dream,  of  course — nothing  but  a 
dream.  How  could  he  come?  By  this  time  he  was  prob- 
ably far  away  from  Rome — back  in  his  own  country — 
among  his  own  people. 

Diana  sighed,  and  Princess  San  Rocco  looked  at  her 
inquiringly. 

'  What  is  troubling  you,  f  iglia  mia  ? '  she  asked  gently. 

*  I  am  trying  to  think/  replied  Diana  wearily. 

'  That  is  just  what  you  must  not  try  to  do/  said  the 
Princess.  ( I  told  you  so  just  now.  Besides,  you  have 
nothing  you  need  think  about,  except  how  to  get  well  as 
quickly  as  you  can.' 

Diana  was  silent.  To-morrow,  she  said  to  herself,  Ma- 
dame de  Bonne val  would  come,  and  to  her  she  could  speak 
her  thoughts.  It  was  not  true  that  she  had  nothing  she 
needed  to  think  about,  for  she  had  so  much — so  very  much  ! 
The  difficulty  was  to  arrange  her  thoughts — to  put  them 
into  something  like  consecutive  order.  Aunt  Yittoria  was 
very  kind,  but  she  would  not  understand  as  Madame  de 
Bonneval  would  understand ;  and,  besides,  she  did  not  want 
Frau  von  Raben  to  know  of  all  that  was  troubling  her. 

That  night  Diana  slept  tranquilly — more  tranquilly, 
perhaps,  than  she  had  done  since  she  had  been  taken  ill. 
The  morning  found  her  stronger  and  almost  like  her  nat- 
ural self.  She  spoke  repeatedly  of  Madame  de  BonnevaPs 
expected  visit  to  Ersilia,  and  was  a  little  irritable  when 
the  latter  displayed  very  small  enthusiasm  on  the  subject. 

The  truth  was  that  Ersilia  viewed  the  visit  in  question 
with  decided  disapproval.  What  was  the  use  of  having 
temporarily  got  rid  of  a  German  woman  who  was  worrying 
the  life  out  of  the  signorina  if  a  Frenchwoman  was  to 
come  and  do  the  same  thing?  They  were  all  alike,  Ersilia 


DONNA   DIANA  295 

told  herself,  these  single  women  who  were  so  credicaU, 
for  they  had  never  had  the  nonsense  taken  out  of  them 
by  a  man — or,  at  least,  if  they  had,  they  had  not  profited 
by  the  experience. 

Ersilia's  misgivings  increased  a  hundredfold  when  that 
afternoon  the  Princess  entered  the  room  in  which  Diana 
was  lying  on  her  sofa  by  an  open  window  that  looked 
into  the  smaller  courtyard  of  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  a 
quiet  little  quadrangle  where  a  fountain  splashed  softly 
in  the  centre  of  a  green  lawn,  and  one  or  two  old  magnolia- 
trees,  laden  with  blossom,  scented  the  summer  air. 

Princess  San  Rocco  was  accompanied  by  a  middle-aged 
lady  of  a  quite  remarkable  plainness  of  feature — so  plain 
was  she,  indeed,  that  Ersilia,  as  she  left  the  room,  turned 
once  more  to  look  at  her. 

'  Mamma  mia ! }  she  exclaimed  as  soon  as  she  had  closed 
the  door  behind  her.  (  Small  blame  to  her  for  going  into 
a  convent.  But,  decidedly,  it  was  hard  on  Domeneddio 
to  palm  off  such  a  bride  on  him.' 

Madame  de  Bonneval  bent  over  Diana  and  kissed  her 
affectionately.  She  was  somewhat  tall,  and  simply, 
though  very  well  dressed  in  black.  There  was  that  about 
her  which  stamped  her  unmistakably  for  a  well-bred  lady ; 
and  anyone  seeing  her  for  the  first  time  could  only  marvel 
how  it  came  to  pass  that  Nature  had  set  so  ugly  a  face 
upon  so  well-formed  a  body. 

Madame  de  Bonneval's  countenance  was  almost  repulsive 
at  the  first  glance.  It  was  only  closer  observation  that  re- 
vealed a  singular  fascination  in  the  expression  of  her 
deep-set  gray  eyes — an  expression  at  once  sad  and  emi- 
nently peaceful,  as  though  their  owner  knew  a  peace  more 
precious  than  any  mere  worldly  happiness.  Madame  de 
Bonneval's  brow  had  a  breadth  and  firmness  that  were 
almost  masculine,  but  which  only  served  to  bring  into 
greater  evidence  the  extreme  ugliness  of  the  lower  part 
of  her  face,  as  well  as  of  her  swarthy  complexion.' 

Nevertheless,  every  movement  was  dignified  and  grace- 
ful, with  the  easy  grace  of  a  high-bred  woman  of  the  world. 


296  DONNA   DIANA 

There  were  certainly  none  of  the  apologetic  motions 
characteristic  of  the  convent  about  Madame  de  Bonneval 
— no  deprecatory  drooping  of  the  eyelids  or  folding  of  the 
hands.  Her  glance  was  direct,  and  occasionally  almost  a 
little  haughty,  as  though  the  traditions  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain  had  not  been  entirely  forgotten  in  the  calm 
seclusion  of  the  Sacre  Cceur. 

Princess  San  Kocco,  after  talking  for  a  little  while  about 
Diana's  illness,  left  her  niece  and  her  visitor  alone  together. 

Diana  and  Madame  de  Bonneval  looked  at  each  other 
in  silence  for  some  moments,  and  it  was  the  latter  who 
was  the  first  to  break  it. 

(  So,  my  dear  child/  she  said  quietly,  ( you  wished  to  see 
me,  did  you  not  ?  And  I  have  come  to  you.  I  would  have 
done  so  before  had  it  been  permitted.  But  you  know 
how  strict  our  rules  are,  and  to  whose  request  I  owe  it  that 
leave  to  come  to  you  has  been  granted  me.' 

Madame  de  Bonneval's  voice  was  low,  but  singularly 
clear  and  penetrating.  She  spoke  in  beautiful  French — 
the  old,  polished  French  of  a  bygone  generation,  so  rarely 
heard  in  the  world  of  to-day. 

'  Indeed,  yes,  I  have  wished  to  see  you/  answered  Diana. 
(  So  much  has  happened  to  me  since  I  left  the  Sacre  Coeur 
— so  much  that  I  want  to  tell  you  about/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  looked  at  her  calmly. 

'  It  is  not  so  long  ago  since  you  left  us,  Diana/  she  ob- 
served. 

'  No,  of  course  it  is  not ;  but  it  seems,  oh,  a  lifetime ! ' 

Madame  de  Bonneval  smiled. 

'When  one  is  young  the  months  seem  years/  she  said; 
*  afterwards '  and  she  paused  expressively. 

'I  wish/  Diana  continued,  'that  I  had  never  left  the 
Sacre  Coeur.  I  was  so  happy  there — because  I  was  good, 
I  suppose.' 

CI  do  not  think  you  were  always  good/  Madame  de 
Bonneval  observed.  '  Sometimes  you  lost  your  temper,  if 
I  am  not  mistaken.' 

(  Oh ! '  answered  Diana,  '  I  have  always  been  liable  to 


DONNA   DIANA  297 

lose  my  temper,  and  I  always  shall  be,  I  expect.  If  it 
were  only  losing  one's  temper,  God  would  make  allowances 
for  that.  The  worst  of  it  is/  she  continued  seriously, 
'that  I  am  not  good  any  more.  That  is  what  is  troub- 
ling me — what  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about,  madame,  for 
you  will  understand.' 

'But,  my  dear  child,  you  must  ask  God  about  that. 
You  must  not  ask  me.  I  am  not  good  either.  Which  of 
us  is?  You  may  tell  me  about  it,  if  you  like,  and  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  think.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Diana  eagerly,  '  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it, 
if  I  can  remember  clearly.  Since  I  have  been  ill,  my  head 
gets  confused  sometimes,  and  I  am'  not  sure  what  is  real 
and  what  is  only  some  dream  that  I  had  when  I  was 
feverish.  But  there  is  one  thing  that  I  am  quite  sure  of, 
and  it  troubles  me  terribly — it  troubled  me  always  while 
I  was  ill.' 

e  Yes  ?  And  what  is  this  terrible  thing  ? '  asked  Madame 
de  Bonneval  gently. 

Diana  hesitated. 

'  It  is  so  dreadful ! '  she  said  in  a  low  voice.  e  I  do  not 
think  I  dare  tell  you,  for  you  will  think  me  so  wicked.' 

Madame  de  Bonneval  took  one  of  Diana's  hands  and 
held  it  in  her  own. 

6  It  is  not  for  me  to  think  anybody  either  wicked  or 
good,'  she  replied.  '  God  is  the  judge  of  people's  deeds ; 
for  He  alone  knows  what  their  temptations  to  evil,  or  their 
incentives  to  good,  may  have  been.  Who  has  told  you  that 
you  are  wicked,  Diana  ? ' 

'Nobody  has  told  me,  because  nobody  knows  what  my 
thoughts  are,'  replied  Diana,  looking  up  into  Madame  dc 
Bonneval's  face  anxiously.  c  I  have  tried  to  love  Christ/ 
she  continued,  'as  I  had  promised  myself  to  Him.  But 
now — now  I  know  that  I  can  never  love  Him — not  like 
that.' 

She  stopped,  and  pressed  Madame  de  Bonneval's  hand 
convulsively.  The  latter  bent  her  kindly  gray  eyes  upon 
the  girl.  There  was  no  look  of  reproof,  no  affectation  of 


898  DONNA   DIANA 

pious  indignation  in  them — nothing  but  an  expression  of 
gentle  sympathy  in  which  was  mingled  a  touch  of  sadness. 

6  How  do  you  know  that  you  can  never  love  Him — like 
that  ? '  she  asked  simply,  but  with  a  tact  belonging  rather 
to  a  woman  of  the  world  than  to  one  who  had  long  separated 
herself  from  it. 

'  Ah ! '  exclaimed  Diana,  '  that  is  what  troubles  me,  and 
makes  me  feel  I  am  wicked.  But  I  can  talk  to  you/  she 
added;  'you  are  not  like  Frau  von  Kaben.  You  do  not 
ask  me  questions/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  frowned  slightly. 

'  No/  she  said,  ( I  am  not  here  to  ask  you  questions,  but 
to  listen  to  what  you  like  to  tell  me.  I  think  I  know  the 
kind  of  questions  Frau  von  Eaben  asked  you.  I  remember 
that  you  spoke  to  me  about  them.  Perhaps  you  remember 
what  my  advice  to  you  was,  Diana.  I  advised  you  to  leave 
all  those  things  to  God,  and  I  assured  you  that  in  course 
of  time  He  would  show  you  whether  it  was  His  will  or  not 
that  you  should  devote  yourself  to  religion.  You  say  that 
you  cannot  love  Him?' 

'Not  as  they  say  I  ought  to  love  Him/  interrupted 
Diana. 

'  They  say  ? '  repeated  Madame  de  Bonneval.  '  Who  are 
"  they  "  ?  It  is  God  alone  who  knows  how  you  ought  to 
love  Him ;  He  alone  can  inspire  you  with  that  love.  There 
are  other  ways  of  serving  Him  than  through  the  cloister/ 

e  But  you  left  the  world/  objected  Diana,  looking  at  her, 
f  though,  to  be  sure,  you  are  not  a  cloistered  nun/ 

'  No/  returned  Madame  de  Bonneval,  smiling, '  the  world 
left  me/ 

The  words  were  spoken  without  any  trace  of  bitterness, 
and  it  was  only  in  the  smile  accompanying  them  that  per- 
haps a  faint  touch  of  irony  showed  itself. 

'But,  you  see,  I  am  to  be  a  real  nun/  said  Diana,  re- 
calling the  conversation  to  herself  with  the  unconscious 
egoism  of  an  invalid.  '  I  should  enter  a  cloistered  order. 
It  would  be  dreadful  to  do  that  and  not  be  able  to  love 
our  Lord — would  it  not,  madame  ? ' 


BOOTA   DIANA  299 

{ It  would  be  still  more  dreadful  to  do  it  and  be  in  love 
with  somebody  else/  replied  Madame  de  Bonneval  dryly. 

Diana  looked  away  from  her. 

6  Frau  von  Raben  always  said  that  one  could  feel  the 
same  kind  of  love  for  our  Lord  as  women  do  for  those 
they  have  married/  she  said,  after  a  pause.  '  I  think  it 
must  be  very  difficult/ 

(  What  must  be  very  difficult  ? '  asked  Madame  de  Bon- 
neval, as  Diana  hesitated  again. 

'  Well,  to  feel  so  much  for  somebody  one  has  never  seen. 
I  said  so  once  to  Frau  von  Raben,  and  she  was  very  angry. 
She  told  me  that  I  must  beware  of  the  lusts  of  the  eye. 
But  if  it  is  wrong  to  remember  a  person's  look,  or  their 
voice,  I  do  not  know  why  they  should  always  return  to 
one's  mind. 

'  So/  said  Madame  de  Bonneval  gently,  e  there  is  some- 
body— some  man — whom  you  find  your  thoughts  dwelling 
upon?  As  I  said  just  now,  I  do  not  want  to  ask  you 
questions,  but  this  is  what  is  troubling  you,  is  it  not,  my 
dear  child?' 

6  Yes/  returned  Diana  in  a  low  voice.  c  It  troubles  me 
because  lately,  whenever  I  have  tried  to  think  about  Christ, 
as  Frau  von  Raben  and  my  uncle  Camillo — the  Cardinal, 
you  know — have  told  me  I  should  think  of  Him,  I  have 
found  myself  thinking  of — of  the  other.  And  when  I  was 
ill  it  was  always  the  other  who  came;  Christ  never  did.' 

Madame  de  Bonneval  sighed. 

e  He  never  does  come  in  this  world/  she  said  gently ; c  not 
as  you  mean.  But  He  comes  in  other  forms  to  those  who 
need  Him;  and  often — very  often — we  do  not  recognize 
Him,  because  He  is  not  as  we  imagine  Him.  We  are  so 
accustomed  to  think  of  His  Godhead  that  we  forget  His 
manhood.' 

'  Then  do  you  think  me  wicked  ? ?  Diana  asked. 

'  No.  I  think,  perhaps,  that  you  are  following  the  way 
which  was  ordained  that  you  should  follow.  But  I  am 
not  here  to  talk  religion  to  you,  Diana,  and  we  must  not 
attempt  to  confuse  spiritual  things  with  things  that  are 


300  DONNA   DIANA 

purely  human,  and,  therefore,  no  disgrace  to  us,  as  God 
has  made  us  human.  I  gather  from  you,  and  Cardinal 
Savelli  has  given  me  to  understand  the  same  thing,  that 
you  have  seen  somebody  to  whom  you  are  not  indifferent, 
and  of  whose  supposed  affection  for  you  you  are  aware. 
It  is  this  which  has  caused  doubts  to  arise  in  your  mind 
concerning  the  genuineness  of  your  vocation — is  it  not  so  ?  ' 

Diana  started. 

'  My  uncle  told  you  that  ? '  she  exclaimed — '  Uncle 
Camillo?' 

'  Yes,  he  certainly  did  tell  me  so/  answered  Madame  de 
Bonneval  quietly. 

'  And  he  is  angry  ? 9  asked  Diana  anxiously. 

e  No.  Why  should  he  be  angry  ?  He  is  sorry,  perhaps, 
for  he  knows  that  a  genuine  vocation  may  be  a  very  blessed 
gift.  But  he  wishes  you  to  be  free,  Diana — absolutely  free 
— to  choose  between  a  worldly  and  an  unworldly  life — 
between 9 

'  Between  a  spiritual  and  an  earthly  love/  interrupted 
Diana. 

Madame  de  Bonneval  made  an  abrupt  gesture  of  im- 
patience. 

( Not  at  all ! '  she  exclaimed.  '  There  is  no  such  choice 
existent  as  that.  You  have  been  told  silly  things — bad 
things.  There  is  nothing  the  devil  likes  so  much  as  senti- 
mental piety.  Loving  a  fellow-creature  worthily  never  yet 
prevented  anyone  from  loving  God  as  He  wishes  us  to 
love  Him.  If  your  human  nature  needs  human  love,  in 
what  are  you  offending  Him?  What  would  the  world  be 
without  the  men  and  women  who  know  that  they  can  be 
in  it  and  yet  love  God  ? ' 

'  My  cousin  Lino  told  me  that  men  wanted  good  women 
in  the  world/  said  Diana. 

She  spoke  as  if  to  herself,  and  Madame  de  Bonneval 
glanced  quickly  at  her. 

'Your  cousin  is  quite  right/  she  said;  and  then  she 
added,  with  a  brusqueness  that  Diana  had  often  noticed  in 
her:  'but  Almighty  God  does  not  want  love-sick  girls  in 


DONNA   DIANA  301 

a  convent,,  or  love-sick  boys  in  a  monastery.  They  are  much 
more  useful  in  the  world/ 

Diana  smiled. 

'But  they  don't  go  into  convents  and  monasteries/  she 
said. 

'  Yes,  they  do,  very  often/  returned  Madame  de  Bonneval 
caustically.  '  They  are  in  love  with  themselves — bien  en- 
tendu — only  they  do  not  know  it;  and  le  bon  Dieu  and 
Our  Lady  have  to  listen  to  their  amatory  declarations  in 
the  form  of  prayers/ 

Diana  looked  at  Madame  de  Bonneval  wonderingly. 

'  I  have  often  thought  why  it  was  you  entered  the  Sacre 
Coeur/  she  said.  '  You  are  not  like  the  other  ladies  there. 
They  are  good  and  kind,  of  course,  but  they  are  so  cold. 
I  used  to  feel  as  though  I  were  a  machine  in  their  hands, 
and  to  wonder  if  they  cared  for  anybody  as  an  individual. 
But  you — you  were  always  different — at  least,  I  always 
felt  a  difference,  though,  of  course,  you  treated  me  as  you 
did  any  other  girl  there/ 

Madame  de  BonnevaPs  face  softened  suddenly,  and  as 
she  turned  to  Diana  a  look  that  was  almost  beautiful  passed 
over  it. 

'  I  told  you  why/  she  said  quietly.  c  I  did  not  leave  the 
world;  it  left  me.  It  held  many  things  for  me — position, 
money — but  it  did  not  hold  love.  I  had  to  find  this  out 
for  myself.  It  was  not  an  agreeable  process — no !  but,  in 
finding  it  out,  I  also  found  out  something  else — I  will  not 
say  better,  for  there  is  nothing  better  than  a  love  that  is 
true  and  faithful/ 

'  And  what  was  that  something  else  ? '  asked  Diana. 
'  I  suppose/  she  added,  '  that  I  know — that  I  need  not 
ask/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and 
then  she  gently  shook  her  head. 

'  No/  she  replied  gravely, (  such  as  you  could  never  know, 
for  it  would  be  strange  if  some  man  did  not  love  you  truly 
and  faithfully/ 

She  gave  a  quick  sigh,  and  there  was  something  in  her 


302  DONNA   DIANA 

look  and  manners  that  checked  the  question  rising  to 
Diana's  lips. 

'Yes/  Madame  de  Bonneval  continued,  'it  would  be 
strange.  Perhaps/  she  added, '  you  are  thinking  that  there 
is  such  a  man,  and  it  is  the  thought  of  his  love  that  has 
made  you  reason  with  yourself/ 

Diana  blushed. 

'  There  is  someone/  she  said  quickly.  '  I  do  not  see  why 
I  should  not  tell  you/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  smiled. 

'  I  know  about  him  already/  she  observed.  e  The  Cardinal 
told  me  that  an  English  friend  of  your  cousin  Don  Michel- 
angelo wanted  to  marry  you/ 

*  How  could  he  know  ? '  asked  Diana  amazed. 

e  He  does  know,  as  I  have  already  told  you.  But,  Diana, 
there  are  objections  to  this  gentleman/ 

*  Objections?' 

*  Objections  to  his  character/  continued  Madame  de  Bon- 
neval.   '  I,  of  course,  know  nothing  of  him,  but  your  uncle 
has  heard  stories  which  are  not  to  his  credit/ 

'But  he  is  Lino's  friend — he  saved  Lino's  life/  said 
Diana.  And  then  she  added  impatiently :  '  I  know  who 
has  told  Uncle  Camillo  these  stories.  It  is  Marco,  of  course. 
Marco  has  always  abused  Mr.  Vane — why,  I  do  not  know. 
I  am  sure  these  stories  are  lies,  madame/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  glanced  at  her,  and  saw  that  her 
eyes  were  flashing  angrily. 

'  Perhaps  they  are/  she  replied  quietly.  '  But  what 
makes  you  so  sure  of  it?' 

'  I  am  sure  of  it/  repeated  Diana.  Then  she  looked  at 
Madame  de  Bonneval  and  hesitated.  '  I  always  wanted 
to  tell  somebody/  she  said,  'but  no  one  except  Ersilia 
knows.  It  was  just  before  I  was  ill,  Ersilia  and  I  were  in 
the  garden  at  Palazzo  Castelnuovo,  and  Lino  brought  Mr. 
Vane  there,  and  Mr.  Vane  spoke  to  me/ 

Whatever  Madame  de  Bonneval  may  have  thought,  she 
made  no  remark,  and  Diana  continued : 

'He  told  me  he  only  wished  me  to  know  that,  should 


DONNA   DIANA  303 

I  ever  change  my  mind  about  becoming  a  nun,  love  was 
waiting  for  me  in  the  world — his  love.  At  first  I  was 
angry,  but  in  a  little  while  I  could  not  be  angry,  for  he  was 
so  gentle — and  I — I  was  sorry  he  should  care  for  me  like 
that.  Afterwards  I  began  to  think,  and  many  things  that 
Frau  von  Eaben  had  said  came  back  to  my  mind — things 
which  I  seem  not  to  have  understood  before.  Frau  von 
Eaben  always  said  that  one  could  find  everything  one 
needed  in  Christ's  love,  and  I  needed  so  little.  But  after- 
wards, when  I  thought  of  Mr.  Vane,  and  of  what  he  had 
said,  I  seemed  to  need  more,  and  it  was  terrible  to  think 
that  I  had  promised  myself  to  God.  I  am  glad  I  have 
told  you/  Diana  added  with  a  little  sigh.  '  Even  if  you 
think  me  very  wicked,  I  would  rather  that  you  should 
know.  As  to  Mr.  Vane,  I  do  not  care  what  may  be  said 
about  him.  I  shall  never  believe  ill  of  him,  because  he 
spoke  to  me  as  nobody  who  was  bad  could  speak.  Besides, 
you  do  not  know  Lino,  or  you  would  not  believe  that  he 
would  have  a  bad  man  for  a  friend/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  sat  and  looked  at  Diana  in  silence. 
Cardinal  Savelli  had  told  her  of  his  suspicions  that  his 
niece  had  begun  to  understand  something  of  what  love 
meant,  and  had  related  to  her  the  half-passionate  and 
wholly  pathetic  utterances  Diana  had  let  fall  in  his  presence 
during  her  delirium.  But  he  had  also  warned  Madame  de 
Bonneval  that  he  had  some  reason  to  fear  lest  the  man 
whose  admiration  had  awakened  new  feelings  in  his  niece 
were  not  worthy  of  her  love. 

Madame  de  Bonneval  looked  grave  and  troubled  as  she 
listened  to  Diana's  words.  She  had  known  too  well  what 
it  was  to  have  her  own  ideas  shattered  to  feel  any  inclina- 
tion to  destroy  those  of  others.  Moreover,  she  felt  that, 
in  Diana's  case,  one  ideal  had  already  been  destroyed, 
thanks,  probably,  to  Frau  von  Eaben's  indiscreet  attempts 
to  reconcile  passion  and  piety.  It  would  be  hard  indeed 
on  Diana  if  this  other  and  more  natural  ideal  were  destined 
to  meet  with  similar  destruction. 

And  yet  it  would  be  both  wrong  and  cruel  to  encour- 


304  DONNA   DIANA 

age  the  girl  to  say  anything  which  could  lead  her  to 
think  more  of  this  Englishman  than  she  was  already 
thinking. 

6  You  are  quite  right  not  to  believe  evil  of  your  cousin's 
friend,  my  child/  she  said  at  length.  '  Perhaps  what  the 
Cardinal  has  heard  will  prove  to  be  untrue — the  stories 
of  ill-natured  people.  If  it  should  prove  to  be  so,  then  you 
will  be  glad  that  you  were  loyal  to  him,  as  you  are  loyal  to 
Don  Michelangelo  Savelli.  But  you  are  very  young,  Diana, 
and  the  world,  though  it  is  not  so  bad  as  many  like  to 
represent  it — for,  being  God's  creation,  how  should  it  be 
so? — is  not  entirely  composed  of  good  people.  You  must 
be  guided  in  this  instance  by  what  your  uncle  says.  His 
Eminence  is  going  to  make  inquiries  concerning  Mr.  Vane. 
He  has  told  me  that  it  is  his  intention  to  do  so.  And  he 
has  told  me,  moreover,  that,  should  he  find  this  gentleman 
to  be  as  worthy  in  character  as  he  is  in  other  ways  it  is 
his  intention  to  leave  you  absolutely  free  to  accept  or 
refuse  his  love,  as  your  heart  and  your  conscience  may 
advise  you/ 

Diana  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

'  Uncle  Camillo  has  been  very  kind  to  me  since  I  was 
ill/  she  said.  '  I  always  used  to  feel  afraid  of  him,  but  now 
it  is  quite  different.  I  shall  never  understand  what  has 
changed  him,  for  at  one  time  he  used  to  talk  to  me  very 
much  as  Frau  von  Eaben  talked,  and  he  always  told  me 
to  ask  her  advice  if  ever  I  had  wrong  thoughts.  I  never 
did  ask  it,  but  she  used  to  give  it  all  the  same,  and  I  often 
think ' 

'  What  do  you  often  think  ? '  asked  Madame  de  Bonneval, 
as  Diana  stopped  suddenly. 

'That  she  gave  me  thoughts  I  should  not  have  had/ 
answered  Diana,  reddening.  '  She  seemed  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  I  must  have  them,  and  always  insisted  that 
— oh,  well — I  have  told  you  before,  madame !  When  those 
thoughts  came  to  me,  I  tried  to  devote  them  to — in  the  way 
that  she  suggested — but  latterly  I  could  not.  All  the  time 
I  knew  who  it  was  of  whom  I  was  really  thinking,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  305 

I  wondered  why  he  should  care  for  me,  as  Giulia  and  Maria 
always  declared  that  he  cared.' 

'  Frau  von  Kaben  is  an  imbecile ! '  said  Madame  de 
Bonneval,  almost  angrily. 

Diana  laughed. 

'  I  told  her  you  never  talked  to  me  in  that  way/  she  con- 
tinued,, '  and  that  you  had  said  I  was  not  to  think  of  those 
things,  but  should  leave  it  to  God  to  show  me  the  way  I 
was  to  go.  She  said  that  you  did  not  understand,  that 
perhaps  you  had  never  had  any  temptations/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  started  as  though  she  had  been 
stung.  Then  she  drew  herself  up  haughtily. 

'  Frau  von  Eaben  appears  to  be  a  person  who  forgets 
her  place/  she  said  coldly.  '  She  should  not  have  presumed 
to  speak  to  you  of  such  things.  It  is  a  pity  that  His 
Eminence  Cardinal  Savelli  should  have  encouraged  her  to 
forget  the  fact  that  she  is  your  cousin's  dame  de  compagnie, 
not  your  spiritual  adviser/ 

6  It  doesn't  matter/  returned  Diana.  '  Now  I  have  told 
you  I  do  not  care  about  anything  else.  As  for  Mr.  Vane, 
I  dare  say  I  shall  never  see  him  again.  But  I  hope  that 
Marco  and  Frau  von  Raben  will  not  succeed  in  making 
people  think  ill  of  him.  They  have  always  been  so  anxious 
that  I  should  be  a  nun — why  I  do  not  know.  I  suppose/ 
she  added  with  a  little  smile, '  they  were  afraid  lest  I  should 
marry  him  instead/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  directed  a  keen  glance  at  her. 

'Did  they — Don  Marco  Savelli  and  Frau  von  Raben — 
ever  speak  to  you  about  your  money  ? '  she  asked  suddenly. 

'  Marco  never  did/  answered  Diana, '  but  Frau  von  Raben 
used  to  talk  to  me  about  it.  She  often  asked  me  whether 
I  was  not  glad  to  think  I  should  bring  so  good  a  dot  to 
my  spiritual  bridegroom/  she  concluded,  blushing. 

6  And  what  did  you  say  ? '  demanded  Madame  de  Bon- 
neval. 

'  Nothing/  replied  Diana  laconically.  '  I  have  money, 
I  suppose,  but  I  know  nothing  about  it.  Uncle  Camillo 
manages  it  for  me  until  I'  am  of  age.  I  had  never  thought 


306  DONNA   DIANA 

of  it  until  I  heard  Marco  say  that  Mr.  Vane  wanted  my 
fortune,  and  that  he  would  never  have  looked  at  me  if  he 
had  not  known  me  to  have  money.  He  said  this  when  he 
was  angry  about  something.' 

Madame  de  Bonneval  smiled  sarcastically. 

'  Imbeciles — all  of  them ! ?  she  said  to  herself.  f  If  they 
had  wanted  to  arouse  the  child's  interest  in  this  English- 
man, they  could  not  have  chosen  a  better  way  to  do  so. 
Pauvre  petite!  I  always  doubted  this  famous  vocation; 
and  now — her  nature  has  asserted  itself.  But  there  is  some- 
thing more  behind — something  that  I  do  not  clearly  under- 
stand, although,  of  course,  her  money  is  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
Helas!  it  is  at  the  bottom  of  so  many  pseudo-vocations 
in  these  days.  And  there  has  been  too  much  suggestion — 
evidently  too  much  suggestion.  Listen,  my  child/  she  said 
to  Diana.  '  You  have  told  me  how  it  is  with  you,  and  you 
are  quite  right  in  thinking  that  I  understand.  Most  of  us 
are  called  to  serve  God  in  some  way  or  another  in  the  world, 
and  a  few  of  us — a  very  few — may  be  called  to  serve  Him 
out  of  it.  The  latter,  I  think,  are  those  upon  whom  it  has 
pleased  Him  to  impose  some  great  defects,  moral  or 
physical,  or  for  whom  the  world  has  no  place.  You  are 
not  one  of  these,  and  perhaps  the  world  has  need  of  you. 
Do  not  torture  yourself  with  useless  doubts — useless 
scruples.  And  do  not  listen  to  those  who  would  have  you 
do  so.  God  knows  better  than  you — better  than  they — 
why  he  placed  you  in  the  world,  why  He  gave  you  all  that 
He  has  given.  To  say  that  He  demands  the  sacrifice  of 
any  of  His  gifts  is  a  lie.  He  requires  them  to  be  used  to 
His  honour  and  glory,  to  advance  His  own  eternal  scheme 
for  the  ultimate  perfection  of  humanity.  Live  your  life; 
do  not  seek  to  anticipate  another  before  you  are  summoned 
to  it.  And,  above  all,  do  not  attempt  to  crush  the  nature 
that  He  has  implanted  in  you.  You  will  wonder  that  I  say 
this  to  you,  being  what  I  am.  But  I  never  sought  a  refuge 
from  this  world.  I,  too,  loved  and  was  married,  though 
not  to  the  man  I  loved.  Afterwards — well,  it  is  not  worth 
while  to  go  into  the  afterwards.  My  marriage  was  annulled 


DONNA   DIANA  307 

by  the  Church,  and  I  had  no  place  in  the  world,  though 
there  was  no  stain  upon  my  name.  I  used  to  tell  you  to 
leave  certain  things  to  God,  and  that  He  would  point  out 
to  you  the  way — did  I  not  ? ' 

( Yes,'  said  Diana.  ( It  was  that  which  gave  me  con- 
fidence in  you.  The  others  were  always  asserting  what 
God  wished — what  he  expected  of  me.  But  you — you 
asserted  nothing,  and  only  said  that  He  would  show  me/ 

'  And  has  He  not  shown  you  ? '  asked  Madame  de  Bon- 
neval  gently ;  '  and  not  you  only,  but  your  uncle,  who  took 
it  for  granted  that  you  had  a  vocation  for  religion?  I 
think  that  He  has  done  so,  Diana.  And  if  this  man  whom 
you  have  confidence  in — whom  you  have  begun  to  care  for 
— should  prove  to  be  unworthy  of  you,  then  you  must  be 
brave  and  not  allow  morbid  thoughts  to  take  possession 
of  you.  God  will  send  some  other  love  into  your  life,  since 
you  are  one  of  those  whom  the  world  has  need  of/ 

A  note  of  ineffable  sadness  pervaded  Madame  de  Bon- 
nevaFs  voice  as  she  uttered  these  concluding  words,  and 
there  was  a  dignity  and  reserve  in  her  manner  that  touched 
Diana  strangely.  For  the  first  time  she  seemed  to  fathom 
the  secret  of  that  mysterious  power  of  sympathy  which 
had  always  attracted  her  to  this  lady  of  the  Sacre  Creur, 
causing  her  to  be  almost  unconscious  of  the  latter's 
ugliness. 

Madame  de  Bonneval  had  suffered,  with  the  weary, 
silent  suffering  of  the  soul,  though  how,  or  why,  Diana 
could  only  faintly  guess  from  the  carefully  guarded  ref- 
erences she  had  made  to  the  life  from  which  she  had  with- 
drawn herself. 

There  was  a  pause  for  some  moments,  during  which 
Madame  de  Bonneval  looked  long  and  affectionately  at  the 
girl  lying  on  the  sofa  beside  her.  Then  she  rose  slowly 
from  her  chair,  with  the  graceful,  dignified  motion  peculiar 
to  her. 

'  You  have  talked  enough  for  to-day,  my  dear  child/  she 
said,  '  and  now  I  must  leave  you  and  return  to  the  Trinita 
dei  Monti.  Your  aunt  warned  me  not  to  remain  with  you 


308  DONNA    DIANA 

too  long,  and  I  think  that  we  have  each  of  us  said  all  we 
need  say  to  one  another/ 

(  But  you  will  come  again,  madame  ?  '  Diana  said  eagerly. 
6  In  a  few  days  I  shall  be  much  stronger — and — I  like  you 
to  talk  to  me/  she  added. 

Madame  de  Bonneval  shook  her  head. 

( I  can  never  come  again,  Diana/  she  replied  gently.  '  It 
would  be  quite  impossible.' 

'  Then  I  shall  come  to  the  Sacre  Cceur  to  see  you/  said 
Diana.  'It  will  be  the  first  thing  I  shall  do  when  I  am 
allowed  to  go  out/ 

Madame  de  Bonneval  smiled. 

'  Yes/  she  replied,  '  you  can  do  that — if  I  am  not  moved 
from  Rome.' 

Diana  looked  at  her  blankly. 

(  Moved  from  Rome  ? '  she  repeated.  '  Why  should  you 
be  moved  from  Rome  ? ' 

'  You  know  our  rules/  answered  Madame  de  Bonneval 
quietly.  '  I  am  here  to-day — to  morrow  the  Mother  Supe- 
rior may  send  me  to  the  other  end  of  the  world.  I  hope 
not,  for  I  am  happier  at  the  Trinita  dei  Monti  than  any- 
where, and  should  like  to  see  you  again,  mon  enfant.  How- 
ever, I  must  not  allow  myself  to  think  of  those  things.  If 
we  are  not  to  meet  again,  remember  me  in  your  prayers, 
Diana,  as  I  shall  remember  you.  And  be  brave.  Even  if 
there  are  troubles  and  disappointments  before  you,  be  brave 
and  good.  And,  bending  down  over  Diana,  Madame  de 
Bonneval  kissed  her.  Then,  with  a  murmured  '  God  bless 
you,  dear  child ! '  she  turned  and  went  swiftly  from  the 
room. 

Diana  lay  still  for  a  minute  or  two,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
door  through  which  Madame  de  Bonneval  had  disappeared. 

Then  she  turned  a  little  on  her  sofa,  and  her  large  brown 
eyes  were  full  of  a  soft  content. 

'  He  is  good/  she  murmured  to  herself,  with  a  little 
smile — { I  am  quite  sure  that  he  is  good  '9  and  Frau  von 
Raben  and  Marco  are  liars.' 


CHAPTER  XXV 

IT  was  the  Eve  of  St.  John. 

The  great  open  space  in  front  of  the  Lateran  Basilica 
was  thronged  with  a  noisy,  restless  mass  of  human  beings 
pressing  their  way  towards  St.  John's  Gate.  Overhead 
the  stars  hung  low  in  the  clear  midsummer  sky,  looking 
down  from  their  everlasting  stillness  on  the  rites  of  an  old 
paganism  being  celebrated  by  the  disciples  of  a  creed  of 
yesterday. 

To-morrow,  the  Feast  of  the  Baptist,  Masses  would  be 
sung  and  the  sacred  rites  of  Christianity  offered  up  in 
the  Mother  Church  of  Rome,  from  the  summit  of  whose 
stately  portico  the  colossal  figures  of  the  Redeemer  and  His 
Apostles  gazed  with  stony  indifference  on  the  scene  below. 
But  to-night  Rome  had  thrown  off  her  Christian  mask, 
and  was  frankly  and  honestly  pagan. 

Bands  of  young  men,  singing  as  they  marched  to  the 
accompaniment  of  mandolines  and  guitars,  passed  at  inter- 
vals through  the  crowd.  Vehicles  of  all  sorts  and  condi- 
tions, from  the  mule-carts  of  the  peasants  to  the  equipages 
of  princes,  passed  in  a  perpetual  stream  towards  the  city 
gate.  The  occupants  of  the  latter  were  good-humouredly 
submitting  to  a  siege  on  the  part  of  vendors  of  fragrant 
lavender,  of  sweet  -  scented  carnations,  and  evil  -  smelling 
stems  of  blossoming  garlic,  the  latter  representing,  perhaps, 
the  thongs  of  dog  and  goat  skin  with  which  the  priests  of 
the  God  of  Fecundity  used  to  strike  his  votaries  during 
the  orgies  of  the  Lupercalia. 

The  flickering  light  from  oil-lamps,  or  the  steady  white 
glare  of  the  acetylene  gas-jets — illuminating  stalls  on 
which  were  displayed,  not  the  locusts  and  wild-honey  of 
the  Syrian  ascetic,  but  the  snails  dear  to  the  Roman  popo- 

309 


310  DONNA   DIANA 

lino — fell  upon  a  marvellous  medley  of  faces,  some  beauti- 
ful, some  evil-looking,  and  some,  again,  both  the  one  and 
the  other. 

Of  all  the  Roman  popular  festivals,  the  Notte  di  San 
Giovanni  is  assuredly  the  most  characteristic.  The  foreign 
element  which  invades  the  winter  nights'  orgie  of  the 
Befana,  when  the  hotels  are  full  and  tourists  mix  with  the 
crowd,  is  entirely  absent  from  it.  Rome  has  donned  her 
summer  garb,  and  is  once  more  the  city  of  the  Romans, 
and  on  all  sides  the  soft  Romanesco  dialect  is  heard — a 
pleasing  contrast  to  the  accents  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  Teu- 
tonic voices  which  fall  so  harshly  on  the  ear  during  the 
winter  and  spring  months. 

With  all  the  noise  and  the  revelry,  the  courtesy  and 
dignity  that  the  Romans  rarely  lose  except  in  moments  of 
anger  are  ever  present.  For  a  mile  or  so  beyond  the  Porta 
San  Giovanni  the  road  is  lined  on  each  side  with  booths 
and  improvised  places  for  eating  and  drinking.  At  the 
little  tables  whole  families  seat  themselves;  even  little 
children  of  three  and  four  years  old  are  there,  eating  their 
snails,  and  placidly  putting  away  an  incredible  quantity  of 
wine  without  apparently  being  the  worse  for  it.  The  road- 
way, indeed,  seems  transformed  into  an  avenue  lined  with 
snails  and  dishes  of  porchetto — baked  sucking-pig — artisti- 
cally browned,  and  stuffed  with  various  spices  and  aromatic 
herbs.  And,  to  encourage  the  thirst  of  those  who  prefer 
drinking  to  eating,  there  are  other  tables  where  packets  of 
bruscolini — melon-seeds  dried  in  the  sun  and  salted — are 
served,  together  with  measures  of  red  and  white  wines  from 
the  vineyards  of  the  Castelli  Romani  or  from  the*  back- 
yards of  the  osteria,  as  the  case  may  be. 

Mixing  in  the  crowd  outside  the  gate  may  be  seen  faces 
of  well-known  people  of  both  sexes  belonging  to  what  their 
owners  would  call  '  society/  These  have  left  their  car- 
riages within  the  gate,  and  have  come  to  see  society — with 
a  small  s — amusing  itself.  But  the  latter  is  wholly  indif- 
ferent to  their  presence.  They  seat  themselves  at  the  tables 
and  order  wine  and  melon-seeds — not  snails  and  sucking- 


DONNA   DIANA  311 

pig — and  they  carry  lavender  and  carnations  in  preference 
to  garlic. 

Presently  the  illuminated  cars  will  arrive,,  with  the  sing- 
ers of  the  Canzone  Romanesche,  which  have  been  awarded 
prizes,  and  which  will  become  the  popular  songs  for  the 
year  if  they  are  lucky  enough  to  please  the  public  taste. 
In  the  meantime  the  eating  and  drinking  goes  on  merrily., 
as  it  will  go  on  till  the  dawn  begins  to  creep  over  the  Sabine 
Mountains. 

The  crowd  waxes  ever  greater  and  more  noisy,  the  air 
becomes  ever  heavier  with  the  odour  of  garlic,  carnations, 
roast  pork  and  lavender  strangely  intermingled.  And  so 
the  festival  of  him  who  cried  in  the  wilderness  is  ush- 
ered in. 

Edmund  Vane  had  never  assisted  at  the  Notte  di  San 
Giovanni,  not  having  before  stayed  in  Eome  so  late  as  the 
end  of  June.  Having  often  heard  of  it  as  the  most  typical 
of  the  Boman  festivals,  he  was  extremely  anxious  to  see  it; 
so  he  and  Lino  Savelli  dined  together,  and  afterwards  took 
a  cab  as  far  as  the  Piazza  of  the  Lateran.  They  had 
scarcely  walked  a  few  paces  before  Vane  caught  sight  of 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  making  his  way  through  the  crowd 
in  the  company  of  two  or  three  secretaries  of  his  own  and 
other  Embassies.  Lino  and  he  joined  them,  and  they  fol- 
lowed the  stream  of  people  through  the  old  gateway. 

( At  least/  said  the  former  to  Vane, '  we  shall  be  in  plenty 
of  time  to  hear  the  songs,  as  we  left  the  cars  still  in  the 
Corso,  and  it  will  take  them  the  best  part  of  an  hour  to  get 
here  with  all  the  stoppages  en  route.  It  would  be  a  pity 
that  you  should  not  hear  them,  for  they  are  sometimes  ex- 
tremely pretty,  and  always  very  characteristic,  both  in  words 
and  music.' 

'  We  had  better  secure  a  table  and  some  chairs/  sug- 
gested Monsieur  de  Villebois,  ( and  order  wine  and  those 
horrible  seeds.  What  do  you  call  them?  Bruscolini,  is  it 
not  ?  I  draw  the  line  at  snails  and  pork  at  this  hour  of  the 
night,  as  I  am  past  my  fiftieth  birthday/ 

6  It  is  no  use  stopping  here/  said  Lino,  laughing.    f  There 


312  DONNA   DIANA 

is  an  osteria  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  down  the  road  where 
they  stop  and  sing  the  canzone  premiate.  We  can  pass  the 
time  eating  melon-seeds  till  they  come/ 

'  I  shall  pass  a  great  deal  of  time  eating  them/  remarked 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  dryly.  (  My  friend/  he  added  sud- 
denly to  a  young  attache  at  his  side,  '  if  you  stare  so  indis- 
creetly at  every  handsome  face  you  see,  you  will  get  into 
trouble  before  the  night  is  over.  Knives  have  a  disagree- 
able habit  of  showing  the  temper  of  their  steel  on  this  holy 
vigil — is  it  not  so,  Lino  ? ' 

'  Unluckily,  yes/  replied  the  latter.  '  The  knife  is  still 
the  curse  of  this  country,  and  especially  of  Home.  By  tol- 
erating its  use  we  are  a  barbarous  people  yet,  and  as  long 
as  our  juries  find  extenuating  circumstances  for  nearly 
every  murderer  whose  friends  can  make  it  worth  their  while 
to  do  so,  we  shall  continue  to  be  very  far  behind  civiliza- 
tion in  that  respect.  This  night  rarely  passes  without 
several  cases  of  stabbing/ 

'  That  poor  St.  John ! '  murmured  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois. '  How  much  he  is  made  responsible  for !  Water,  I 
believe,  was  his  particular  element.  It  is  a  pity  the  Church 
does  not  encourage  the  faithful  to  drink  it  to-night  instead 
of  wine.  Then,  perhaps,  there  would  be  fewer  murders.' 

'  You  forget  that  murders  mean  Masses  for  the  souls  of 
the  murdered/  said  Lino  Savelli.  'You  must  not  spoil 
the  ecclesiastical  nlarket,  De  Villebois/ 

(  Mille  pardons !  I  forgot  that  a  Cardinal's  nephew  was 
present ! '  retorted  the  ex-diplomat  maliciously. 

Vane  burst  out  laughing  at  Lino's  discomfiture.  He 
had  become  accustomed  to  the  latter's  anti-clericalism,  and, 
indeed,  the  better  he  became  acquainted  with  Home  and 
Italy,  the  less  he  was  able  to  wonder  at  it.  He  had  begun 
to  realize  that  no  Italian  worthy  of  the  name  could  tolerate 
the  idea  of  his  country  once  more  falling  under  the  emas- 
culating influences  of  clerical  dominion,  or  of  its  being 
ever  again  overrun  by  foreign  mercenaries  summoned  by 
an  internal  foe. 

Edmund  was  in  better  spirits  that  evening  than  he  had 


DONNA    DIANA  313 

been  for  a  long  time.  Donna  Diana  Savelli  was  now  com- 
pletely convalescent,  and  in  a  few  days  was  to  be  moved  to 
the  seaside.  The  knowledge  that  she  had  recovered  so 
satisfactorily  from  her  illness  would  itself  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  cause  Vane  to  take  a  brighter  view  of  things  in 
general.  Lino  Savelli's  evident  misgivings  lest  Diana's 
malady  might  not  have  been  a  purely  natural  one  had 
weighed  terribly  upon  his  mind.  Now,  however,  he  could 
dismiss  any  such  sinister  suspicions,  and  his  spirits  rose 
accordingly. 

He  had  also  other  reasons  for  feeling  tolerably  satisfied 
with  the  turn  events  were  taking.  Lino  had  succeeded  in 
bringing  Prince  San  Rocco  and  Vane  together  on  several 
occasions,  both  at  the  Circolo  della  Caccia  and  in  his  own 
apartment.  The  result  had  been  that  Edmund  had  spoken 
quite  openly  to  the  Prince  as  to  his  love  for  Donna  Diana 
Savelli,  and  of  his  hopes  that,  if  she  did  not  adhere  to  her 
determination  of  embracing  a  religious  life,  she  might,  per- 
haps, consent  to  become  his  wife. 

Prince  San  Eocco  had,  of  course,  referred  the  matter  to 
the  Princess.  He  had  made  his  own  inquiries  about  Ed- 
mund Vane,  and  so  far  had  heard  nothing  but  good  of  him. 

Princess  San  Rocco  acquainted  Cardinal  Savelli  with  the 
fact  that  Vane  had  made  a  formal  declaration  to  her  hus- 
band of  his  desire  to  marry  Diana.  Somewhat  to  her  sur- 
prise, the  Cardinal  replied  that  he  wished  to  see  Mr.  Vane, 
and  asked  his  sister  if  she  would  get  the  intimation  con- 
veyed to  Edmund. 

Lino  Savelli  was  overjoyed  when  he  heard  that  his  friend 
was  to  be  received  by  the  Cardinal.  That  Vane  should  be 
so  was  at  least  a  sign  that  his  pretensions  were  about  to  be 
considered  seriously  by  Diana's  guardian.  As  yet,  how- 
ever, no  hint  had  reached  Lino  that  his  cousin  had  changed 
her  mind  as  to  her  vocation,  save  the  uncertain  remarks 
on  the  subject  which  Prince  San  Rocco  had  let  fall. 

Nevertheless,  everything  pointed  to  the  probability  of 
some  change  having  occurred  in  Diana's  sentiments,  and 
Lino  Savelli  felt  some  remorse  for  having  misjudged  the 


314  DONNA   DIANA 

Cardinal.  The  latter,  Lino  was  obliged  to  confess  both  to 
himself  and  to  Edmund,  had  been  liberal-minded  in  his 
conduct,  for  as  soon  as  he  had  become  convinced  that  Diana 
was  not  perfectly  at  ease  regarding  her  vocation,  he  had 
declared  that  she  should  be  left  absolute  freedom  of  choice. 
Lino  reproached  himself  for  the  suspicions  he  had  enter- 
tained that  his  uncle  had  wished  in  some  way  or  another  to 
retain  his  hold  over  Diana's  fortune,  and  that  with  this  ob- 
ject in  view  he  was  encouraging  her  to  enter  religion. 

It  had  been  arranged  that  Edmund  should  be  received  by 
Cardinal  Savelli  in  the  afternoon  of  the  festa  of  San  Gio- 
vanni, and  Vane  felt  that  this  Koman  midsummer  holiday 
was  to  be  a  fateful  day  in  his  life.  He  wondered  how  the 
Cardinal  would  regard  his  suit,  and  whether  he  would 
hold  out  any  encouragement,  that  Diana  would  listen  to 
it  were  it  urged  upon  her. 

Edmund  felt  hopeful,  however,  for  he  knew  that  he 
had,  at  all  events,  secured  an  ally  in  Prince  San  Kocco. 
But  it  was  of  no  use  to  wonder  what  might  or  might  not 
be  the  result  of  his  interview  on  the  morrow  with  Car- 
dinal Savelli;  for  to-night,  at  least,  he  determined  to 
interest  himself  in  the  traditional  diversions  of  the  Notti 
di  San  Giovanni. 

After  some  time  he  and  his  companions  reached  the  oste- 
ria  Baldinotti,  before  which  Lino  assured  them  that  the 
cars  would  halt  and  the  prize  songs  be  sung.  All  around 
were  family  groups  seated  at  tables,  among  which  busy 
waiters  hurried  hither  and  thither  attending  to  the  wants 
of  newcomers.  Lino  Savelli  found  a  vacant  table,  and  they 
took  up  their  position  at  it,  glad  to  find  themselves  out  of 
the  mob  in  the  roadway,  and  also  to  be  able  to  sit  down. 

At  length  the  cars  arrived,  and  presently  there  was  com- 
parative silence  among  the  crowd,  as  the  soft  notes  of  man- 
dolines and  guitars  made  themselves  heard. 

Suddenly  the  tones  of  a  rich,  full  tenor  voice  rung  out. 
It  was  not  a  highly  trained  voice,  perhaps,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  it  was  one  of  those  you  may  accidentally  hear  singing 
in  the  Koman  streets  on  a  summer  evening  one  year,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  315 

pay  a  guinea  for  the  privilege  of  listening  to  it  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre  the  next. 

'  Tu  sei  'na  boja — M'  hai  rubbato  er  core 
Te  lo  sei  preso  a  un  friccio  pe'  vorta, 
Mo' t'  &  finite  tutto — e  de  'st'  amore 
Nun  te  n'  importa  piu,  nun  te  n'  importa. 

'Pero  nun  credo  che  tu  m'  hai  scordato 
E  che  me  lassi  vive  a  'sta  magnera, 
Perche  drento  a  'sto  core  addolorato 
Sento  'na  voce  che  mi  dice :  Spera — 

Words  and  music  were  alike  typically  Koman,  and  Ed- 
mund was  able  to  follow  the  dialect  to  a  certain  extent. 
Without  understanding  a  word,,  however,  the  passionate 
pathos  the  singer  knew  how  to  throw  into  the  voice,  a  pathos 
accumulated  by  the  soft  minor  chords  from  the  guitars  and 
mandolines,  would  have  told  its  own  story. 

'  Tu  sei  'na  boja — lo  piagno  1'  ore  e  T  ore 
Gnisuna  cosa  ar  monno  me  conforta ; 
Qui  drento  ci'  o  un  deserto  de  dolore 
Pensanno  che  pe'  me  forse  sei  morta. 

'Per6  nun  credo  che  tu  m'  hai  scordato 
E  che  mi  lassi  vive  a  'sta  magnera, 
Perch£  drento  a  'sto  core  addolorato 
Sento  'na  voce  che  mi  dice:  Spera.' 

'  Singularly  appropriate  to  you  and  Diana,  Eddie/  said 
Lino  Savelli  from  across  the  table,  as  the  crowd  applauded 
the  song.  '  Do  you  not  hear  the  voice  that  bids  you  hope  ?  y 

He  spoke  in  English,  knowing  that  the  rest  of  the  party 
did  not  understand  the  language. 

Edmund  smiled. 

( I  have  always  heard  it,  I  think/  he  replied ; '  sometimes 
very  faintly,  but  much  more  distinctly  of  late/ 

They  sat  for  some  time  longer  watching  the  crowds 
passing  backwards  and  forwards. 

As  yet  everything  was  orderly.  All  around  them  were 
groups  composed  of  artisans  and  their  families,  and  mem- 
bers of  the  piccola  borghesia  enjoying  themselves  with  their 


316  DONNA   DIANA 

friends  after  their  own  fashion.  By  an  hour  after  mid- 
night, however,  the  self-respecting  of  these  would  go  home, 
leaving  the  field  to  the  basso  popolo.  Then,  as  the  small 
hours  of  the  morning  approached,  the  scene  would  become 
more  brutal.  The  wine  would  begin  to  produce  its  effects, 
and  the  hot  Southern  blood  mount  to  the  head,  engender- 
ing quick  and  violent  quarrels  between  those  who  a  moment 
before  had  been  boon  companions.  Knives  would  flash  for 
a  moment  in  the  glare  of  the  gas-lights ;  and  then,  perhaps, 
a  sudden  cry,  followed  by  an  oath  or  a  call  upon  the  Ma- 
donna, would  ring  out  above  the  uproar. 

Once  again  the  accursed  knife  would  have  claimed  its 
victim;  and  the  murderer  would  be  housed  and  fed  at  the 
expense  of  law-abiding  tax-payers  for  a  few  months  or 
years,  according  to  the  sentimental  caprice  of  a  so-called 
jury,  to  emerge  from  prison  even  a  greater  danger  to  society 
than  before. 

Neither  Vane  nor  Lino  Savelli  felt  any  inclination  to 
remain  for  very  long  after  the  conclusion  of  the  songs. 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  and  his  companions  were  also  quite 
ready  to  return  within  the  city  walls. 

Having  at  last  succeeded  in  getting  a  waiter  to  tell  them 
how  much  they  owed  for  their  wine  and  bruscolini,  they 
were  in  the  act  of  leaving  their  little  table  when  Monsieur 
de  Villebois,  who  happened  to  be  sitting  next  to  Vane,  saw 
the  latter  start  slightly,  and  look  intently  at  a  couple  of 
men  and  a  woman  seated  at  another  table  some  little  dis- 
tance behind  them. 

'  There  is  the  fellow  I  told  you  about/  said  Edmund  in 
a  low  tone  to  him.  e  You  remember,  De  Villebois — the  man 
who,  I  thought,  was  "  shadowing "  me  ?  It  is  an  odd 
coincidence,  isn't  it?  I  have  not  seen  him  for  a  fortnight 
or  more,  until  just  now/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  looked  rapidly  in  the  direction  of 
Vane's  gaze.  He  said  nothing,  but  followed  Lino  Savelli 
and  the  two  secretaries  of  his  Embassy,  who  were  already 
making  their  way  between  the  tables,  into  the  road. 

They  all  walked  together  in  the  direction  of  the  gate,  and 


DONNA   DIANA  317 

it  was  only  just  before  reaching  it  that  Edmund  and  Lino 
Savelli,  who  had  passed  a  little  in  front  of  the  others,  found 
that  they  had  become  separated  from  them  owing  to  the 
pressure  of  the  people. 

Once  inside  the  walls,  the  crowd  became  much  more 
scattered,  and  they  walked  slowly  across  the  open  space  to 
the  steps  of  the  Lateran  basilica.  Here  they  stood  for  a 
few  minutes,  looking  across  to  the  church  of  Santa  Croce 
in  Gerusalemme  at  the  further  end  of  the  wide  expanse  of 
ground  covered  with  people  and  carriages  of  all  descrip- 
tions. Lino  proposed  taking  a  cab,  but  Vane  demurred. 
It  would  be  pleasanter  to  walk  home,  he  declared,  after 
having  sat  for  so  long.  Crossing  the  piazza  of  the  Lateran, 
they  proceeded  leisurely  up  the  long  Via  Merulana,  and  so 
past  Santa  Maria  Maggiore  down  the  Esquiline  Hill. 

Vane's  thoughts  were  occupied  with  the  visit  he  was  to 
pay  Cardinal  Savelli  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  that 
would  shortly  dawn,  and  he  was  talking  of  it  earnestly  to 
Lino  as  they  turned  across  the  well-nigh  deserted  Via 
Urbana. 

Suddenly  he  was  interrupted  by  a  woman  coming  from 
the  contrary  direction  pushing  somewhat  violently  up 
against  him. 

He  drew  back  with  a  few  words  of  surprised  apology, 
thinking  that  the  collision  was  due  to  his  inattention  as  to 
how  he  was  walking;  but  the  only  acknowledgment  he  re- 
ceived was  a  torrent  of  abuse,  so  rapidly  and  so  loudly  de- 
livered that  the  sense  of  the  words  was  lost  upon  him. 

Suddenly  Lino  took  his  arm  and  dragged  him  forward. 
'  Don't  waste  time  by  apologizing  to  her ! '  he  exclaimed. 
'  She  ran  against  you  purposely/ 

The  words  were  no  sooner  out  of  his  mouth  than  a  couple 
of  men  sprang  from  the  shadow  of  a  doorway,  and  stood  in 
front  of  them. 

Quick  as  lightning,  Lino  Savelli  drew  Vane  back  against 
the  wall  of  the  house  they  were  passing,  and  faced  them. 
At  the  same  instant  Edmund  recognised  in  one  of  the  men 
his  mysterious  follower,  and  in  the  latter's  companions  the 


318  DONNA   DIANA 

two  who  had  been  sitting  behind  them  while  they  were 
listening  to  the  songs  a  short  time  before. 

The  woman  at  once  began  to  accuse  Vane  and  Lino 
Savelli  of  insulting  her,  and  one  of  the  men,  his  '  shadower/ 
suddenly  darted  forward  and  seized  Vane's  arm. 

The  next  instant  he  lay  prostrate  on  the  pavement, 
stunned  by  a  crashing  blow  between  the  eyes  that  Edmund 
had  dealt  him  with  scientific  calm  and  accuracy. 

Vane  turned  to  Lino  with  a  short  contemptuous  laugh, 
and  was  about  to  speak  when  the  latter  suddenly  threw 
himself  in  front  of  him,  and  forced  him  aside  with  such 
violence  as  to  send  him  reeling  back  against  the  wall. 
There  was  a  slight  scuffle  between  Lino  Savelli  and  the 
second  aggressor.  Suddenly  the  latter  took  to  his  heels 
and  fled,  and  Vane  saw  that  the  woman  had  also  dis- 
appeared. 

6  Diavolo,  Eddie !  I  wonder  why  they  set  upon  you ! ' 
exclaimed  Lino.  He  was  very  white,  and  his  blue  eyes 
flashed  like  burnished  steel.  '  They  thought  you  were  a 
foreigner  from  whom  they  could  extort  money,  I  suppose, 
and  had  not  calculated  the  weight  of  an  English  fist.' 

'  I  hope  I  haven't  killed  the  brute/  said  Vane,  pointing 
to  the  prostrate  form  at  their  feet.  '  We  had  better  do 
something  for  him/  he  added. 

'  Leave  him  alone,  and  come  away  at  once/  answered 
Lino  shortly.  'I'm  afraid  I  knocked  you  back  rather 
roughly,  Eddie/  he  continued;  'but  the  other  fellow  was 
going  for  you,  and  I  thought  he  might  have  a  knife  about 
him.  Come,  let  us  walk  on,  and  get  into  the  first  cab 
we  can  pick  up.  Don't  disturb  yourself  about  that  ca- 
naglia,  he  will  come  to  his  senses  after  a  bit/ 

The  whole  had  passed  so  rapidly  that  Vane  felt  com- 
pletely confused.  It  did  not  seem  strange,  therefore,  when 
the  sound  of  footsteps  approaching  them  caused  them  to 
look  round,  and  they  saw  Monsieur  de  Villebois  hurrying 
towards  them,  coming  from  the  same  direction  as  their 
late  aggressors,  whom  he  could  have  been  scarcely  a  hun- 
dred paces  behind. 


DONNA   DIANA  319 

*  Ah ! '  he  cried,  '  I  am  too  late !     But  you  are  neither 
of  you  hurt?'  he  added  anxiously. 

'No/  said  Vane;  ' nobody  is  any  the  worse  except  our 
friend  here,  and  he  is  only  stunned  by  bringing  his  silly 
head  up  against  my  fist/ 

'  I  am  sorry  I  was  not  in  time/  said  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois, fingering  a  revolver  as  he  spoke.  '  The  brutes  doubled 
down  side  streets  in  order  to  cut  you  off/  he  continued. 
'  I  suspected  that  they  were  following  you,,  so  I  followed 
them  to  see  what  their  intentions  were.  Anyhow,  we  will 
get  this  fellow  arrested.  One  of  you  can  go  for  a  guardia, 
and  I  will  remain  here  with  my  revolver,  in  case  this 
gentleman  gives  any  more  trouble/ 

( No,'  exclaimed  Vane  hurriedly.  '  Leave  him  alone, 
and  let  us  get  away/ 

'But  it  is  absurd/  began  Monsieur  de  Villebois. 

Edmund  laid  his  hand  on  the  Frenchman's  arm. 

6  For  God's  sake  let  the  fellow  escape ! '  he  said  in  a  low 
voice.  '  I  have  my  reasons,  De  Villebois/  he  added  mean- 
ingly. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  gave  him  a  quick  glance. 

*  Very  well/  he  replied  briefly.     '  Let  us  get  away,  then, 
before  we  have  to  explain  what  is  the  matter  with  him/ 

They  walked  on  quickly,  hoping  to  meet  an  empty  cab. 
Suddenly  Vane  became  conscious  that  Lino  Savelli  was 
very  silent.  Indeed,  since  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  arrival 
on  the  scene  he  had  hardly  uttered  a  word.  Glancing  at 
him,  Edmund  was  struck  by  his  extreme  pallor. 

'  You  are  not  hurt,  Lino  ? '  he  asked  eagerly. 

*  Hurt !   oh  no ;  but  that  other  fellow  knew  how  to  use 
his  fists,  too.     He  gave  me  a  blow  in  the  back  which  he 
intended  for  you.     It  has  rather  knocked  the  wind  out  of 
me,  and  I  feel  a  little  sick.     It  is  nothing — nothing  at 
all — only  I  thought — it's  very  ridiculous,  Eddie — but  I 
really  am  rather  giddy — let  us  stop/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  gave  a  sharp  exclamation  as  Lino 
suddenly  reeled  a  little. 

'  It  is  nothing,'  the  latter  continued  in  Italian,  '  only 


320  DONNA   DIANA 

a  little  giddiness;  but  I  thought  he  meant  to  stab  you, 
Eddie,  and — and ' 

And  then,  with  a  deep  sigh,  he  sank  fainting  into  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois'  outstretched  arms. 

Vane's  face  wag  scarcely  less  pale  than  Lino  Savelli's 
as  he  knelt  down  on  the  pavement  beside  the  latter,  for 
no  sooner  had  Monsieur  de  Villebois  withdrawn  his  hands 
from  underneath  Lino's  body  than  both  saw  that  they  were 
wet  with  blood.  At  that  moment  a  carriage  came  rapidly 
towards  them.  It  was  a  private  carriage,  and  inside  it 
were  two  men  evidently  returning  from  San  Giovanni. 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  signed  to  the  coachman  to  stop, 
and  briefly  explained  to  the  occupants  what  had  happened, 
giving  them  at  the  same  time  his  name.  They  at  once 
descended  and  placed  the  carriage  at  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois' disposal,  and  he  and  Edmund  lifted  Lino  gently  into 
it.  The  letter  was  still  unconscious,  and  Monsieur  de 
Villebois  bade  the  coachman  drive  as  rapidly  as  possible 
to  the  nearest  hospital  in  which  similar  cases  were  treated. 


CHAPTER    XXVI 

LINO  SAVELLI'S  wound  received  immediate  attention  in 
the  hospital  of  Sant'  Antonio.  The  surgeons  on  night 
duty  were  too  well  accustomed  to  such  cases  to  lose  any 
time  in  ascertaining  the  nature  and  extent  of  his  injury, 
though  their  astonishment  had  been  extreme  when  they 
learned  the  name  of  their  patient. 

To  Edmund  Vane's  intense  relief  and  thankfulness,  the 
result  of  the  medical  examination  was  far  more  satis- 
factory than  either  he  or  Monsieur  de  Villebois  had  dared 
to  hope.  No  vital  part  had  been  touched  by  the  knife, 
and  Lino  had  fainted  from  gradual  loss  of  blood.  The 
blow,  however,  had  been  dealt  with  great  violence,  and  the 
weapon  employed  had  been  sharp  and  slender,  by  no 
means,  so  the  surgeons  declared,  such  an  instrument  as 
was  generally  in  use  in  Rome.  In  any  case,  the  latter 
were  able  to  assure  Edmund  and  Monsieur  de  Villebois 
that  Lino's  life  was  in  no  danger,  though  had  the  weapon 
not  from  some  cause  or  another  slightly  glanced  aside 
the  wound  must  have  been  instantly  fatal. 

The  police  authorities  were  immediately  on  the  spot, 
and  took  down  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  and  Edmund's 
depositions  as  to  all  that  had  occurred.  Under  other  cir- 
cumstances, the  latter  would  have  had  to  accompany  the 
officers  to  the  Questura  to  undergo  examination,  but  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois'  name  was  well  known,  so  he  and  Vane 
were  spared  that  formality.  As  soon  as  Lino  had  recovered 
consciousness,  which  he  did  not  fully  do  until  after  his 
wound  had  been  dressed,  he  was  also  interrogated. 

When  the  police  -  inspector  learned  that  Monsieur  de 
Villebois  had  not  been  actually  present  when  the  two 
younger  men  were  attacked,  but  had  arrived  on  the  scene 

321 


322  DONNA   DIANA 

a  minute  or  two  afterwards,  he  smiled  a  little  cynically, 
and  cast  a  rapid  glance  at  his  subordinate  officer. 

( It  appears/  he  said  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  '  to  have 
been  a  questions  di  donna.  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  and 
this  English  gentleman  are  young  men,  and  no  doubt  they 
were  a  little  indiscreet/ 

Vane  was  about  to  burst  forth  with  an  indignant  denial, 
when  a  warning  glance  from  Monsieur  de  Villebois  checked 
him.  In  an  instant  he  recovered  himself,  and  mentally 
blessed  the  ex-diplomat  for  his  ready  tact. 

e  It  is  possible/  the  latter  replied,  with  a  smile.  e  I  have 
not  questioned  my  young  friends  upon  that  point.  It 
would  be  regarded  as  an  extenuating  circumstance  in  fa- 
vour of  the  assassins — no  ? '  he  added,  with  an  irony  that 
was  lost  on  the  representatives  of  law  and  order. 

The  delegate  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'  It  is  clearly  the  work  of  souteneurs/  he  said.  '  If  this 
gentleman  had  not  been  so  ready  with  his  fists,  he  and 
Prince  Savelli  would  have  got  off  unharmed  by  paying  a 
few  francs/ 

Yane  said  nothing.  It  was  better  that  the  authorities 
should  think  as  this  police-officer  did  than  they  should 
suspect  what  he,  Edmund,  knew  to  be  a  hideous  fact.  He 
knew  now  that  he  had  been  watched  and  followed  for  days 
until  those  who  were  dogging  his  footsteps  should  be  able 
to  create  an  opportunity  to  attack  him.  The  blow  that 
had  struck  his  friend  down  had  been  intended  for  him, 
and  Lino  had  redeemed  the  promise  he  had  more  than 
once  made  him  under  the  African  stars. 

Lino  had  saved  his  life  by  thrusting  him  aside  and  re- 
ceiving the  murderer's  blow  on  his  own  person,  knowing 
the  customs  of  the  Eomans  of  the  type  of  his  aggressors, 
and  that  it  was  more  probable  than  not  that  the  latter 
would  use  his  knife. 

Edmund  reproached  himself  bitterly  now  for  not  hav- 
ing confided  to  Lino  Savelli  his  suspicions  that  his  move- 
ments were  being  watched ;  but  he  thought  with  a  shudder 
how  much  more  terrible  his  self-reproach  would  have 


DONNA   DIANA  323 

been  had  not  a  merciful  Providence  caused  the  knife  to 
glance  some  fraction  of  an  inch  aside  when  the  blow 
was  struck. 

As  it  was,  Lino  knew  nothing,  and  could  guess  nothing, 
of  the  terrible  suspicions  that  had  haunted  Vane's  mind, 
suspicions  now  changed  into  certainties.  Thanks  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois'  presence  of  mind,  the  police,  and  there- 
fore the  newspapers  and  the  public,  would  be  persuaded 
that  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  had  received  his  wound  in 
some  dispute  over  a  woman,  in  which  he,  Edmund,  had 
also  been  involved.  It  would  not  be  creditable,  certainly, 
either  to  Lino  or  to  himself,  but  at  least  the  truth  would 
not  be  known — the  fact  that  a  deliberate  attempt  had  been 
made  on  his  life  at  the  instigation  of  those  who  were  cle- 
termined  that  he  should  not  marry  Donna  Diana  Savelli. 

There  was  no  question  of  moving  Lino  from  the  hos- 
pital that  night,  nor  would  the  surgeons  allow  Monsieur 
de  Villebois  and  Vane  to  see  him.  Absolute  repose,  they 
declared,  was  necessary  for  him,  and  Edmund  was  obliged 
to  be  content  with  their  assurances  that  there  was  no  cause 
for  any  alarm  nor  any  fear  that,  with  due  care,  the  flesh 
wound  he  had  received  would  not  heal  rapidly  and  satis- 
factorily. 

There  was  an  embarrassed  silence  between  Vane  and 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  as  they  left  the  hospital  together. 
Each  knew  what  was  in  the  other's  mind,  and  neither 
liked  to  speak  their  thoughts. 

Edmund  was  the  first  to  break  this  silence  by  telling 
his  companion  how  deeply  he  reproached  himself  for  not 
having  acquainted  Lino  of  the  fact  that  on  various  occa- 
sions he  had  suspected  an  individual  of  watching  his  move- 
ments. 

'  I  had  not  noticed  the  fellow  for  so  many  days  until 
to-night/  he  explained  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'that  I 
really  had  begun  to  laugh  at  myself  for  having  had  any 
such  ideas.' 

e  You  may  depend  upon  it/  replied  the  latter,  '  that  you 
have  been  shadowed  the  whole  time.  Those  two  scoundrels 


324  DONNA   DIANA 

will  have  taken  care  not  to  arouse  your  suspicions  too 
deeply.' 

'  At  least/  said  Edmund,  '  I  am  glad  to  think  that  Car- 
dinal Savelli  is  clearly  guiltless  of  any  knowledge  of  this 
infernal  business/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  glanced  at  him. 

'  We  will  hope  so/  he  replied  dryly. 

'  I  am  convinced  of  it,  De  Villebois ! '  returned  Vane 
warmly.  ( I  did  not  tell  you/  he  added,  '  but  you  must 
know  that  the  Cardinal  was  going  to  receive  me  to-day — 
this  afternoon.  Prince  San  Rocco  has  arranged  it.  Car- 
dinal Savelli  is  perfectly  well  aware  of  what  I  intend  to 
ask  him/ 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

'  It  is  a  curious  coincidence/  he  observed  presently,  ( that 
this  attack  should  have  been  made  upon  you  the  very  night 
before  you  were  to  have  this  interview.  But  do  not  let 
us  talk  about  coincidences/  he  added  impatiently.  'You 
and  I  both  know  that  they  do  not  exist,  that  it  was  never 
intended  this  interview  should  take  place.' 

Edmund  nodded. 

'  I  have  thought  so  myself/  he  said ;  '  but  of  this,  again, 
I  am  persuaded  that  Cardinal  Savelli  is  absolutely  in- 
nocent. I  do  not  want  to  think  too  much  as  to  who  is 
the  real  instigator  of  the  attack  made  upon  me  to-night. 
Luckily,  Lino  has  no  suspicions — at  least,  I  trust  not. 
He  will  think,  like  everybody  else,  that  it  was  the  work 
of  souteneurs,  and  that  they  attacked  me  because  I  was 
a  foreigner.  It  is  fortunate,  for  some  reasons,  that  there 
was  a  woman  present,  for  it  will  make  people  believe  the 
whole  affair  to  be  a  very  ordinary  and  somewhat  discredit- 
able adventure.  I  was  angry  for  the  moment/  he  added, 
'when  that  police-officer  at  once  jumped  at  the  conclu- 
sion that  Lino  and  I  had  furnished  our  assailants  with 
extenuating  circumstances.  Had  it  not  been  for  your 
look  at  me,  De  Villebois,  I  should  have  utterly  denied  the 
imputation  and  landed  myself  in  a  difficulty  by  doing  so. 
It  was  very  clever  of  you  to  guess  that  the  simplest  way 


DONNA   DIANA  325 

would  be  to  let  the  police  place  this  construction  on  the 
matter/ 

'  You  forget,  my  dear  friend/  replied  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois,, ( that  you  had  already  given  me  my  instruction.  Had 
it  not  been  for  your  begging  me  not  to  do  so,  I  should  have 
handed  that  fellow  you  knocked  down  over  to  a  guardia. 
But  I  believed  I  understood  your  motives  for  letting  him 
get  away  unquestioned.' 

6  It  was  very  clever  of  you  to  recollect  them  at  a  mo- 
ment when  I  had  forgotten  them/  said  Edmund.  '  Now/ 
he  continued,  'Lino  and  I  shall  have  to  be  content  with 
being  the  heroes  of  a  vulgar  street  adventure — like  a  couple 
of  tourists.  As  I  say,  it  is  certainly  discreditable;  but 
I  fear  that  the  truth  would  be  far  more  discreditable,  and 
my  object  is  to  save  Lino  from  the  knowledge  of  certain 
things  if  I  can  do  so.  He  has  saved  by  life,  De  Villebois/ 
Edmund  added  a  little  huskily,  'for  he  suspected  that 
brute  had  a  knife.  Now  I  wish  to  save  his  family  honour. 
I  have  my  own  reason  for  suspecting  who  directed  the 
blow  that  was  to  prevent  me  from  ever  having  my  inter- 
view with  Cardinal  Savelli.' 

f  I  understand/  said  Monsieur  de  Villebois ;  '  but  I 
doubt  if  you  quite  realize  the  position  in  which  you  have 
been  placed,  my  dear  Vane.' 

'Oh,  the  position.  Yes,  it  is  very  tiresome/  Edmund 
replied;  'but  thank  God  it  is  not  worse.  It  makes  me 
sick  to  think  of  how  nearly  Lino  Savelli  lost  his  own  life 
in  defending  mine/  he  added.  '  But  it  was  like  him.  I 
have  never  detected  a  mean  thought  in  Lino,  still  less  a 
mean  action.  What  nonsense  foreigners,  especially  those 
of  my  race,  talk  about  the  Italians  and  Eomans  when  they 
declare  them  all  to  be  untrustworthy,  and  only  seeking  to 
make  some  profit  out  of  somebody !  As  if  there  were  not 
as  many  loyal  gentlemen  among  all  classes  in  Italy  as  in 
any  other  country!  and  more,  perhaps,  than  in  some 
countries  which  boast  a  great  deal  of  their  morality  and 
high  principles.' 

'Yes/  observed  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  'that  is  quite 


326  DONNA   DIANA 

true.  An  Italian  untouched  by  the  love  of  money  is  one 
of  the  best  specimens  of  humanity  that  I  know,  and  among 
the  Romans  there  are  more  such  of  all  classes  than  in  most 
parts  of  Italy.  But,  unluckily,  the  passion  for  money  is 
very  strong  in  the  race;  the  Jewish  strain,  which  is  so 
indignantly  denied,  and  is  yet  so  conspicuous,  comes  out 
there.  After  all/  he  added,  '  we  are  probably  right  in 
supposing  the  love  of  money  to  have  something  to  do  with 
to-night's  business,  as  it  has  had  to  do  with  Donna  Diana 
Savelli's  pretended  vocation  for  the  cloister.' 

'  The  conspirators  have  overreached  themselves/  said 
Edmund,  with  a  short  laugh. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  glanced  at  him. 

'  Are  you  quite  sure  of  that  ? ?  he  asked.  c  They  have 
failed  in  putting  you  out  of  the  way,  certainly,  but  they 
have  succeeded  in  seriously  compromising  your  chances 
of  marrying  Donna  Diana  Savelli.' 

( I  do  not  see  how/  said  Edmund. 

'  Do  you  not  ? '  returned  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  Do 
you  think,  my  dear  friend,  that  a  night  affray  in  the 
streets  of  Eome  about  a — well,  let  us  call  her,  for  cour- 
tesy's sake,  a  cocotte — is  a  good  credential  for  a  young 
man  who  is  supposed  to  be  in  love  with  an  innocent  girl 
hitherto  destined  to  the  convent?  Do  you  suppose  that, 
even  granting  His  Eminence  Savelli  to  be  completely  ir- 
responsible for  this  business,  he  will  feel  encouraged  to 
give  his  niece  to  a  young  man  whose  name  will  figure  as 
one  of  the  heroes  of  such  an  adventure  ? ' 

'  Damnation ! '  exclaimed  Vane ;  ( I  never  thought  of 
that,  De  Villebois.' 

( No/  replied  the  latter, '  I  know  you  have  never  thought 
of  it.  You  thought  only  of  how  you  could  spare  your 
loyal  friend  Lino  Savelli  the  shame  and  mortification  of 
learning  the  whole  truth  of  this  disgraceful  affair.  You 
have  never  realized,  as  I  said  just  now,  the  position  in 
which  your  enemies  have  so  cleverly  placed  you.  I  do  not 
believe  that  they  intended  to  take  your  life  so  much  as  to 
take  away  your  character.  To  take  away  the  former  would 


DONNA   DIANA  327 

have  been  too  dangerous.  That  other  fellow — the  man 
who  stabbed  Lino  and  then  bolted — lost  his  head,  and 
dealt  too  violent  a  blow,  if,  indeed,  any  blow  with  a  knife 
had  been  contemplated.  Personally,  I  believe  that  it  never 
was  contemplated/ 

'  What  makes  you  doubt  it  ? '  asked  Vane. 

'  Simply  because  the  individual  who  for  days  had  fol- 
lowed you,  and  whom  you  planted  so  neatly  on  the  pave- 
ment, could  probably  have  murdered  you  over  and  over 
again,  had  he  wished  to  do  so.  He,  presumably,  had  his 
instructions  to  place  you  in  some  compromising  position, 
and  then  to  frighten  you  by  threats  of  exposure  which  he 
would  have  been  paid  to  carry  out.  It  is  not  the  first 
case  of  the  kind  that  has  occurred  in  Eome,  or  in  other 
cities,  for  that  matter/ 

6 1  never  thought  of  it/  repeated  Edmund.  '  Of  course/ 
he  added,  c  I  see  it  all  now.  But  could  anybody  have  con- 
ceived such  a  thing  to  be  possible  in  these  days?  I  begin 
to  think  that  Lino  is  right  when  he  declares  that  in  some 
ways  Eome  has  not  yet  even  reached  the  Middle  Ages/ 

'  A  great  many  things  are  possible  when  the  handling 
of  a  million  of  francs  is  concerned/  said  Monsieur  de 
Villebois.  'If  you  think  for  a  moment/  he  added,  'you 
will  see  that  the  campaign  has  been  carried  out  upon  a 
regular  system.  Directly  it  became  evident  to  certain 
people  that  your  presence  in  Eome  was  undesirable,  a 
story,  discreditable  both  to  you  and  Lino  Savelli,  was 
spread  abroad.  The  story  missed  its  mark,  partly  because 
nobody  cared  very  much  whether  you  had  paid  Lino  Sa- 
velli's  debts,  or  whether  you  hadn't,  and  partly  because 
both  of  you  had  friends  who  laughed  it  down.  After  that, 
it  became  necessary  to  discredit  you  at  all  costs,  hence  our 
adventure  of  to-night.  Fortunately,  in  this  case  also,  you 
have  a  friend  who,  if  necessary,  is  in  a  position  to  throw 
a  different  light  on  the  affair/ 

'You  mean  yourself ?'  said  Vane. 

'Yes.  The  police  only  know  that  I  came  up  after  the 
whole  thing  was  over.  They  do  not  know  that  you  had 


328  DONNA   DIANA 

already  pointed  out  to  me  one  of  your  assailants  as  the 
individual  who  had  so  frequently  crossed  your  path  of  late, 
nor  do  they  know  that  I  separated  myself  from  my  com- 
panions and  followed  this  individual  and  the  man  and 
woman  who  were  with  him.  My  testimony  may  be  val- 
uable, and  you  are  welcome  to  call  upon  me  to  give  it 
privately,  either  to  Cardinal  Savelli  or  to  any  other  mem- 
bers of  Donna  Diana's  family  who  may  require  proof  that 
you  and  Lino  were  not  attacked  while  engaged  in  a  ques- 
tionable adventure.' 

e  I  wish  I  could  tell  you  how  much  your  words  relieve 
my  mind/  said  Edmund  warmly.  '  Cardinal  Savelli  would 
be  perfectly  justified  in  declining  to  listen  to  my  proposal 
to  marry  his  niece  if  he  thought  as  everybody  probably 
will  think  when  the  story  is  known.  The  thing  that 
troubles  me  is  that  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  avoid  explain- 
ing the  whole  affair  to  Lino.' 

6  That,'  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  f  entirely  depends 
upon  whether  you  are  correct  in  believing  Cardinal  Savelli 
to  be  in  ignorance  of  any  scheme  to  prevent  his  niece  from 
marrying  you.  In  a  word,  it  depends  upon  whether  His 
Eminence  is  a  knave  or  a  fool.' 

It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  before  Ed- 
mund reached  his  own  abode. 

Sleep  was  out  of  the  question,  and  he  lay  watching  the 
summer  dawn  stealing  across  the  sky,  and  counting  the 
hours  as  the  clocks  struck  in  the  different  quarters  of 
the  city. 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  that  by  eight  o'clock  at  the 
latest  he  would  go  to  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco.  He  would 
acquaint  the  Prince  with  the  true  version  of  what  had 
happened,  so  far  as  he  could  do  so  without  allowing  him 
to  suspect  that  the  affray  in  which  Lino  had  so  nearly 
lost  his  life  had  been  deliberately  planned  with  a  view, 
either  finally  to  get  rid  of  him,  Edmund  Vane,  or  to 
render  it  impossible  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  become 
the  husband  of  Donna  Diana  Savelli. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

CARDINAL  SAVELLI  had  just  finished  saying  Mass  in  his 
private  chapel.  He  had  been  unrobed  of  his  sacred  vest- 
ments by  his  personal  domestic,  who  had  also  assisted  him 
as  *  server '  during  its  celebration,  and  had  retired  into  his 
study  where  his  morning  repast  of  coffee  and  rolls  would 
shortly  be  brought  to  him. 

It  was  about  half-past  eight,  and  the  windows  of  the 
room  were  open,  letting  in  the  cool,  fresh  breeze  of  the 
summer  morning.  The  air  resounded  with  the  bells  of  the 
neighbouring  churches  ringing  in  honor  of  the  day  dedi- 
cated to  St.  John  the  Baptist,  and  Cardinal  Savelli  stood 
awhile  at  one  of  the  windows  whence  he  could  see  across 
the  Tiber  to  the  green  heights  of  the  Janiculum  opposite. 
He  was  feeling  strangely  weary,  with  a  weariness  that  had 
seemed  of  late  to  creep  over  him — a  kind  of  physical  las- 
situde for  which  he  felt  himself  quite  unable  to  account. 
That  he  was  weary  mentally  he  knew  but  too  well.  Every 
day  now  appeared  to  bring  him  fresh  anxieties  and  fresh 
embarrassments. 

Cardinal  Savelli  said  to  himself  sometimes  that  it  al- 
most seemed  as  though  his  creditors  were  in  league  with 
the  devil  to  force  him  into  abandoning  his  determination 
to  leave  his  niece  free  to  renounce  her  supposed  vocation 
should  she  wish  to  do  so. 

He  had  said  the  same  thing  both  to  his  nephew  Marco, 
and  to  Monsignor  Tomei.  Of  the  latter,  indeed,  the  Car- 
dinal had  of  late  seen  very  little.  It  had  not  been  agree- 
able to  listen  to  Monsignor  Tomei's  gloomy  prognostica- 
tions, and  each  time  he  had  requested  an  audience  it  had 
been  for  the  purpose  of  acquainting  his  patron  of  some 
bill  that  had  fallen  due,  a  renewal  of  which  it  had  been 


330  DONNA   DIANA 

quite  impossible  for  him  to  negotiate.  Cardinal  Savelli, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  had  begun  to  realize  that  the  business 
capacities  of  Monsignor  Tomei,  upon  which  he  had  so 
much  relied,  had  been  confined  to  borrowing  money  for 
him,  and  that,  so  long  as  Monsignor  Tomei  had  believed 
him  to  have  security  to  offer,  money  had  been  forth- 
coming. 

On  reverting  in  his  mind  to  their  conversations  together, 
the  Cardinal  could  not  but  remember  that  when  any  new 
financial  difficulty  presented  itself  Monsignor  Tomei  had 
invariably  urged  him  to  make  use  of  Diana's  capital.  But 
Cardinal  Savelli's  resolutions,  formed  during  the  hours 
he  had  passed  in  Diana's  sick-room,  had  not  been  lightly 
taken.  They  had,  moreover,  been,  as  it  were,  cemented 
and  strengthened  by  honest  and  constant  prayer.  He  had 
prayed  fervently  and  continuously  that  the  temptation  to 
sacrifice  his  niece's  future  to  his  own  interests  might  pass 
from  him,  that  he  might  be  fortified  to  meet  the  disasters 
his  own  weakness  had  brought  upon  him.  - 

Much,  he  felt,  would  depend  upon  the  interview  which 
he  was  to  have  that  afternoon  with  Diana's  lover.  He  had 
taken  steps  to  ascertain  how  much  ground  there  might  be 
for  the  mysterious  hints  that  Marco  was  perpetually  pour- 
ing into  his  ears  concerning  Vane's  evil  mode  of  life,  but 
he  had  not  as  yet  succeeded  in  finding  any  justification 
for  them.  There  was,  to  be  sure,  the  story  that  his 
nephew  Lino  had  allowed  his  friend  to  pay  his  debts  in 
exchange  for  his  facilitating  the  latter's  marriage  with 
Diana.  This  was  a  story  difficult  enough  to  disprove, 
but  Cardinal  Savelli  had  only  recently  been  assured  by 
his  brother-in-law  that  he  knew  for  a  fact  that  Lino  was 
not,  and  never  had  been,  in  debt  to  anything  but  the  most 
permissible  extent,  and  that  the  story  was  a  pure  inven- 
tion. 

If  only  this  Englishman  were  really  as  indifferent  to 
Diana's  fortune  as  Prince  San  Eocco  declared  him  to  be, 
Cardinal  Savelli  felt  that  perhaps  matters  might  not  come 
to  the  crisis  foreseen  by  Monsignor  Tomei.  If  the  mar- 


DONNA   DIANA  331 

riage  were  arranged,  Vane  might  give  him  time — years 
perhaps — in  which  to  pay  over  the  whole  of  his  niece's 
dot.  Then  he  would  be  able  to  replace  the  sums  he  had 
abstracted,  he  would  be  able  gradually  to  pay  off  his  own 
debts,  and  be  free  to  help  Marco — Marco,  who  was  a  son 
to  him,  and  to  whom  he  would  leave  any  money  that 
might  remain  to  him  at  his  death. 

The  sound  of  the  door  of  his  study  being  hastily  opened 
interrupted  Cardinal  Savelli's  train  of  thoughts.  Think- 
ing that  it  was  the  servant  bringing  his  coffee,  he  moved 
away  from  the  window  and  found  himself  confronted  by 
his  nephew. 

Marco  was  trembling  with  agitation.  In  his  hand  he 
carried  a  packet  of  newspapers  which  he  held  out  towards 
the  Cardinal  as  though  unable  to  trust  himself  to  speak. 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  with  astonishment  and 
anxiety. 

'What  is  it?'  he  exclaimed.  'What  has  happened, 
Marco?  The  Holy  Father ' 

Marco  shook  his  head. 

'  You  had  better  read  for  yourself,'  he  said.  <  It  is  in 
all  the  morning  papers — the  Popolo  Romano,  Messaggiero 
— all  of  them — even  the  Voce  della  Verita.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  took  one  of  the  crumpled  journals  from 
him  and  glanced  his  eyes  over  it  rapidly.  Then  he  gave 
a  sudden  exclamation  of  horror  and  dismay. 

'  Yes/  said  Marco,  in  a  loud,  excited  voice.  ( It  is  quite 
true.  Now,  perhaps,  you  will  believe  that  I  was  right 
when  I  warned  you  as  to  what  kind  of  individual  this 
precious  Englishman  is.  You  see  the  life  into  which  he 
drags  my  brother — a  low  brawl  in  the  streets  of  Eome  over 
a  prostitute !  And  this  is  the  man  to  whom  you  propose 
to  marry  Diana.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  sank  into  a  chair  with  a  groan.  Then 
he  spread  the  newspaper  on  the  table  before  him  and  read 
the  long  paragraph  through  without  uttering  a  word.  The 
paragraph  was  headed :  '  A  Roman  Prince  and  an  English 
Personage  attacked  in  the  Via  Cavour.  Don  Michelangelo 


332  DONNA   DIANA 

Savelli  stabbed' — printed  in  large  characters  and  inserted 
in  the  most  conspicuous  portion  of  the  journal. 

The  story  had  lost  nothing  by  passing  through  the 
hands  of  the  journalists.  Surmises,  inuendoes— all  were 
there — everything,  in  short,  that  could  excite  the  morbid 
curiosity  of  the  reader. 

'  I  hope  it  will  be  a  lesson  to  Lino/  said  Marco,  as  his 
uncle,  having  read  the  paragraph,  sat  staring  in  front  of 
him  as  though  half  stunned  by  its  contents.  '  Now  that 
he  has  disgraced  us  before  all  Rome,  and  has  escaped  with 
his  life  almost  by  a  miracle,  perhaps  he  will  shake  off 
this  disreputable  friend/  he  added  contemptuously. 

Cardinal  Savelli  turned  his  eyes  slowly  upon  him.  There 
was  a  ring  of  triumph  and  complacency  in  Marco's  voice 
that  did  not  escape  him. 

'  We  have  not  yet  heard  your  brother's  and  Mr.  Vane's 
account  of  the  matter/  he  said  quietly.  (  Newspaper  para- 
graphs are  not  always  reliable.  You  must  recollect  that 
other  stories  about  them  have  had  no  foundation.  I  think 
you  are  too  ready  to  believe  the  worst  of  Vane/  he  added. 

Marco  Savelli  made  an  impatient  gesticulation. 

'  I  warned  you,  uncle/  he  replied  quickly.  ( I  heard 
some  time  ago  certain  things  about  him — more  than  I 
cared  to  repeat  to  you.  It  was  a  mere  question  of  time 
before  he  got  into  trouble  in  some  of  the  places  he  was 
known  to  frequent.  I  was  always  certain  he  would  be 
found  out,  only  I  naturally  could  not  have  been  inspired 
to  know  that  we  should  have  to  suffer  the  disgrace  of  a 
Savelli  being  mixed  up  in  such  a  vile  affair.  However, 
mercifully,  Lino's  wound  appears  not  to  be  dangerous. 
Poor  Diana !  what  an  escape  for  her !  This  Vane  might, 
at  least,  have  had  the  decency  to  leave  off  his  habits  while 
he  was  pretending  to  be  in  love  with  her.' 

'But  we  know  nothing  yet,  Marco/  said  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli almost  pleadingly.  '  Perhaps  it  is  not  true  about — 
about  the  woman.  They  may  have  been  attacked.  The 
papers  say  they  were  returning  from  San  Giovanni,  where 
they  had  been  in  the  company  of  a  member  of  the  Corps 


DONNA   DIANA  333 

diplomatique.  The  name  of  the  latter,  by  the  way,  is 
not  mentioned.' 

e  The  papers  say  that  they  professed  to  have  been  at  the 
Notte  di  San  Giovanni/  said  Marco  dryly.  '  Most  prob- 
ably they  never  were  there  at  all.  As  to  their  companion, 
whoever  he  may  have  been,  it  appears  that  he  did  not  ar- 
rive upon  the  scene  till  afterwards.  I  am  afraid,'  he  con- 
tinued, '  that  the  newspapers  are  right.  You  know  that 
their  reporters  go  to  the  Questura  to  examine  the  registers 
of  accidents  and  crimes.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed. 

'I  do  not  know  what  to  do,'  he  exclaimed  almost  petu- 
lantly. t  They  have  not  sent  me  any  message  from  Pa- 
lazzo San  Rocco,  and,  of  course,  I  cannot  mix  myself  up 
in  such  an  affair  as  this.  It  is  bad  enough,  as  you  say, 
Marco,  to  feel  that  our  name  is  being  dragged  before  the 
public  in  connection  with  such  a  discreditable  occurrence. 
As  the  accounts  declare  that  Lino's  wound  is  not  serious, 
I  think  I  had  better  take  the  line  of  ignoring  the  whole 
matter  so  far  as  he  is  concerned.  Everybody  knows  that 
I  disapprove  of  his  principles  and  of  his  politics.' 

'  But  you  cannot  ignore  it  as  far  as  Vane  is  concerned,' 
said  Marco  hastily.  '  You  will  surely  have  it  conveyed  to 
him  that  the  mere  fact  of  his  having  been  concerned  in 
such  an  adventure  makes  any  further  question  of  his  being 
permitted  to  pay  his  addresses  to  Diana  quite  impossible.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  his  nephew  curiously  and  did 
not  immediately  reply. 

'  I  think  I  told  you,'  he  said  presently,  *  that  I  had  ar- 
ranged to  receive  Mr.  Vane  to-day,  in  order  to  hear  what 
he  has  to  say.  Now,  perhaps  he  will  not  come.' 

Marco  looked  up  quickly  from  the  newspaper,  which  he 
was  again  studying  with  scarcely  concealed  satisfaction 
written  on  his  countenance. 

'  Oh,'  he  replied,  e  I  should  not  wonder  if  he  were  to 
come  all  the  same.  He  must  be  a  tolerably  shameless  per- 
son, I  should  imagine.  No  doubt  he  will  want  to  persuade 
you  that  there  is  nothing  in  this  episode — that  he  has  been 


334  DONNA   DIANA 

a  victim  to  an  ordinary  aggressione,  and  deserves  your  sym- 
pathy rather  than  your  contempt.  But,  of  course,  you  will 
refuse  to  receive  him/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  hesitated.     Then  he  replied  quietly: 
''If  Mr.  Vane  comes,  I  shall  receive  him.    He  has  a  right 
to  be  heard/ 

'  Impossible ! '   exclaimed  Marco   angrily.     '  It  would 

'  Basta,  Marco ! '  returned  the  Cardinal  authoritatively. 
'  I  say  that  I  shall  receive  him.  You  forget  my  position 
towards  Diana.  Besides,  it  is  my  wish  to  give  him  an  in- 
terview, and  that  is  sufficient.  Do  not  let  me  hear  any 
more  objections/ 

Marco  Savelli  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

{  Of  course,'  he  said  at  length,  '  if  it  is  your  intention 
to  receive  him,  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  But  I  hope  that 
at  least  you  will  have  some  third  person  present  at  the 
interview/ 

e Yourself,  for  instance?' 

Marco  started  slightly.  The  Cardinal's  tone  was  unmis- 
takably ironical,  and  his  nephew  glanced  at  him  uneasily. 

cNo,'  he  replied  coldly,  'not  myself,  thank  you,  uncle. 
I  have  not  the  slightest  desire  to  meet  Mr.  Vane,  either 
here  or  anywhere  else/ 

e  Then  whom  do  you  suggest  should  be  present  ? ' 

( Monsignor  Tomei  is  in  your  confidence,'  answered 
Marco  a  little  hesitatingly,  '  and  he  is  a  man  of  business. 
You  should  certainly  have  some  reliable  person  with  you/ 

'  Monsignor  Tomei ! '  repeated  the  Cardinal  impatiently. 
I  have  relied  too  much,  and  too  long,  upon  Monsignor 
Tomei.  Besides,  I  have  no  intention  of  permitting  Mon- 
signor Tomei  to  interfere  in  the  matter.  If  Mr.  Vane 
comes  this  afternoon,  I  shall  receive  him  alone/ 

At  that  moment  a  servant  entered  the  room  with  the  Car- 
dinal's coffee.  The  man  looked  curiously  at  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli and  Marco,  and  lingered  over  his  arrangement  with 
the  tray  until  the  Cardinal  somewhat  impatiently  told  him 
that  he  required  nothing  more. 


DONNA   DIANA  335 

e  He  has  been  reading  the  Messaggiero/  said  Marco  Sa- 
velli  with  a  disagreeable  smile,  as  soon  as  the  servant  had 
left  the  room.  ( It  is  pleasant  to  think  that  all  the  servitu 
in  Rome  is  discussing  us  this  morning,  and  that  all  our 
friends  and  acquaintances  are  engaged  in  doing  the  same 
thing/ 

'  You  will  go  to  San  Giacomo,  I  suppose,  and  see  Lino/ 
said  the  Cardinal  presently. 

'  I  think  not/  replied  Marco  hurriedly.  '  You  see,  as  you 
say  yourself,  he  is  in  no  danger.  I  have  no  wish  to  become 
involved  -in  the  matter,  so  that  when  I  am  questioned  I  can 
truly  say  that  I  know  nothing  whatever  about  it  beyond 
what  has  already  appeared  in  the  newspapers.  There  is 
nothing  more  to  know,  indeed,  except  things  that  Lino  and 
his  friend  probably  have  good  reasons  for  keeping  to  them- 
selves. The  police  are  not  likely  to  lay  their  hands  on  the 
gang  who  attacked  Lino.  It  is  very  easy  to  read  between 
the  lines  of  these  newspaper  reports  which  the  Questura 
has,  of  course,  inspired.  You  may  depend  upon  it  that 
we  shall  hear  no  more  about  it,  for  it  is  to  everybody's  in- 
terest that  the  matter  should  be  allowed  quietly  to  drop/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  poured  himself  out  a  small  cup  of  black 
coffee  and  dipped  a  piece  of  roll  into  it. 

'  I  should  doubt  either  Lino  or  Vane  allowing  it  to  drop/ 
he  observed. 

'  It  is  very  evident  that  you  believe  in  their  innocence/ 
exclaimed  Marco  irritably ; '  and  yet,  as  I  say,  I  warned  you 
as  to  what  sort  of  a  type  Vane  is  known  to  be.  Why  should 
he  and  Lino  not  allow  the  matter  to  drop  ? '  he  added  un- 
easily. 

'  Lino  might  do  so/  said  Cardinal  Savelli,  ( but  I  should 
think  that  Vane  would  naturally  wish  to  prove  his  inno- 
cence of  what  is  imputed  by  these  newspaper  paragraphs, 
if  he  can/ 

Marco  made  no  reply,  but  the  uneasy  look  on  his  face 
increased  as  he  listened  to  the  Cardinal's  words.  He  was, 
indeed,  both  alarmed  and  angry  at  the  unexpected  turn 
events  had  taken.  To  do  him  justice,  he  had  neve#  in- 


336  DONNA   DIANA 

tended  that  Vane's  life  should  be  threatened.  The  report 
he  had  read  in  that  morning's  papers  had  not  only  startled 
him,  but  had  also  considerably  embarrassed  him. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  Marco  was  furious  with  the  indi- 
vidual whom  Monsignor  Tomei  had  suggested  as  a  useful 
accomplice  to  their  designs  for  having  bungled  his  busi- 
ness; nor  could  he  understand  how  his  brother  could  have 
been  wounded,  though  he  had  at  once  conjectured  that  Lino 
had  been  stabbed  in  defending  his  friend.  He  cursed  Mon- 
signor Tomei  in  his  heart  for  having  been  too  precipitate, 
and  for  not  clearly  explaining  to  his  accomplice  that  the 
Englishman  must  be  trapped  when  he  was  alone,  and  made 
the  subject  of  a  scandal  that  should  find  its  way  to  the 
press  and  the  public. 

And  yet  Marco  Savelli  was  obliged  to  confess  to  himself 
that  he  was  to  blame  in  having  warned  Monsignor  Tomei 
as  to  the  necessity  for  immediate  action.  As  soon  as  he  had 
learned  from  Cardinal  Savelli  that  a  day  had  been  fixed 
for  Vane  to  be  received  by  him,  Marco  had  informed  Mon- 
signor Tomei  of  the  fact,  and  they  had  both  agreed  that  no 
time  was  to  be  lost  in  effecting  Edmund's  ruin. 

That  anything  of  the  kind  would  have  been  attempted 
unless  Vane  had  been  by  himself,  and  still  less  that  it  would 
have  been  attempted  when  the  latter  was  in  Lino's  com- 
pany, had  never  entered  into  his  calculations.  Marco  could 
only  conclude  that  none  of  the  individuals  engaged  knew 
his  brother  by  sight,  and  that,  owing  to  Lino's  height,  and 
the  cut  of  his  English-made  clothes,  they  had  supposed  him 
also  to  be  an  Englishman. 

What  had  happened,  however,  had  happened,  and  Marco 
Savelli  had  at  once  determined  to  turn  to  good  account  the 
error  that  had  been  committed.  It  should  not  be  difficult, 
he  argued  to  himself,  to  add  to  the  unpleasantness  of  Vane's 
position  by  impressing  upon  Cardinal  Savelli  that  it  was 
thanks  to  Vane's  evil  influence  if  Lino  had  found  himself 
in  such  equivocal  company,  while  any  denials  on  the  part 
of  Lino  himself  would  only  be  regarded  as  made  to  shield 
his  friend. 


DONNA   DIANA  337 

Nevertheless,  Marco  felt  uneasy  in  his  mind.  He  had 
hoped  and  expected  that  Cardinal  Savelli  would  indig- 
nantly refuse  to  accord  Vane  an  interview,  after  learning 
what  had  happened;  and  his  uneasiness  had  not  been 
decreased  by  the  Cardinal's  firm  resolve  to  speak  with  the 
man  who  was  aspiring  to  his  niece's  hand. 

Marco  was  wondering  what  might  be  his  uncle's  reason 
for  being  so  unwilling  to  be  finally  convinced  of  Vane's 
unworthiness,  when  the  servant  who  had  brought  in  the 
coffee  reappeared  with  a  note  upon  a  salver,  which  he 
brought  to  the  Cardinal. 

'  From  His  Excellency  the  Prince  San  Eocco/  the  man 
said,  and  added  that  a  servant  was  waiting  for  an  an- 
swer. 

Cardinal  Savelli  took  the  note,  which  was  marked 
'  Urgente/  and  Marco  watched  his  countenance  eagerly  as 
he  broke  the  seal  and  read  its  contents. 

6  Your  wish  that  someone  should  be  present  during  my 
interview  with  Mr.  Vane  will  be  gratified,'  Cardinal  Savelli 
said  to  his  nephew,  after  a  pause.  '  This  is  from  your  uncle 
San  Eocco.  He  suggests  that  he  should  accompany  Vane 
when  the  latter  comes  to  see  me  this  afternoon/ 

*  Does  he  say  anything  about  last  night's  affair  ? '  asked 
Marco. 

e  Nothing.  That  is,  he  says  that  Mr.  Vane  will  explain 
to  me  the  unfortunate  occurrence  that  no  doubt  I  have 
seen  reported  in  this  morning's  paper;  and  he  adds  that 
there  is  no  reason  for  any  anxiety  on  Lino's  behalf.' 

'  Unfortunate  occurrence ! 9  repeated  Marco  sarcastically. 
'  That  is  a  mild  term  to  bestow  upon  it.  I  should  think 
you  and  Uncle  San  Eocco  would  require  very  satisfactory 
explanations  and  convincing  proofs  of  their  veracity.' 

'  I  shall  require  them  certainly/  replied  Cardinal  Savelli. 
'  I  am  in  great  hopes,'  he  added,  almost  cheerfully,  ( that 
they  will  be  forthcoming.  It  appears  that  the  member  of 
the  diplomatic  body  alluded  to  in  the  newspaper  is  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois/ 

(  Monsieur  de  Villebois ! '  exclaimed  Marco. 


338  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Yes/  continued  the  Cardinal,  rubbing  his  hands  gently 
together.  '  I  know  him,  though  it  is  a  long  time  since  I 
have  seen  much  of  him.  He  used  to  be  Conseiller  at  the 
French  Embassy,  you  know.  Somewhat  of  a  freethinker, 
I  fear — like  so  many  of  his  nation — but  a  gentleman,  and 
quite  a  reliable  person/ 

'  But  he  knows  nothing  about  it/  returned  Marco  hastily. 
6  He  only  came  up  when — when  everything  was  over/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  glanced  again  at  his  brother-in-law's 
missive. 

'It  appears  that  he  knows  a  good  deal  about  it/  he 
replied — 'so  much  so  that  your  uncle  asks  me  to  receive 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  at  the  same  time  as  I  receive  Mr. 
Vane.  Now,  Marco,  I  must  beg  you  to  leave  me.  I  must 
answer  this  note,  and  I  have  other  business  to  attend  to, 
though  I  do  not  feel  up  to  much  business  to-day/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked  to  the 
writing-table.  His  movements  were  slow,  and,  notwith- 
standing Marco's  preoccupation,  it  struck  the  latter  that 
his  uncle  was  feeble,  and  looked  even  older  than  he  had 
done  of  late. 

'  You  are  not  feeling  well  ? 9  Marco  asked  of  him.     • 

The  Cardinal  sighed. 

'  I  am  feeling  old/  he  said  with  a  smile — '  old  in  body 
and  old  in  mind.  It  is  the  heat,  perhaps,  for,  after  all,  I 
am  not  so  very  old.  I  should  like  to  rest,  Marco — to  rest. 
You  know/  he  added,  '  that  my  affairs  have  been  worrying 
me  of  late.  I  am  not  satisfied  with  Tomei — not  at  all 
satisfied.  He  has  not  advised  me  well,  and  now  I  find  that 
every  week  my  embarrassments  increase/ 

Marco  looked  at  him  furtively.  Cardinal  Savelli  was 
gazing  straight  in  front  of  him  with  the  fixed  look  in  his 
eyes  that  those  about  him  had  noticed  during  the  last  few 
weeks.  It  was,  perhaps,  as  well  that  he  did  not  see  the 
expression,  half  eager  and  half  contemptuous,  on  his 
nephew's  face. 

'If  I  am  to  believe  Tomei/  Marco  said  significantly, 
'  these  embarrassments  will  increase  considerably  should 


DONNA   DIANA  339 

you  be  called  upon  to  pay  over  Diana's  fortune.  Surely,  it 
is  worth  while  to  think  well  before  placing  yourself  at 
the  mercy  of  a  foreigner  who  wili  probably  insist  upon 
seeing  the  whole  of  his  bride's  dot' 

Cardinal  Savelli  half  rose  from  his  chair,  and  his  whole 
person  trembled  with  agitation. 

'  No,  Marco — no  ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  Not  you — I  will  not 
be  tempted  by  you !  I  have  been  an  unfaithful  steward — 
do  you  understand? — an  unfaithful  steward.  But  now— 
I  have  thought  well,  as  you  say — I  will  not  go  to  my  grave 
with  the  consciousness  that  I  have  wronged  an  innocent 
girl.  I  will  not  bring  more  dishonour  on  the  name  of 
Savelli  than  I  may  already  have  brought — I  will  not  do 
more  evil  to  purchase  a  false  tranquillity.  I  care  nothing 
for  the  money — do  you  understand  ? — nothing — nothing ! ' 
His  voice  rose  until  it  became  almost  a  hoarse  shriek. 
c  Go ! '  he  added,  pointing  with  a  shaking  hand  towards  the 
door — '  go !  If  I  sinned,  I  sinned  to  benefit  you,  in  the 
first  instance,  though  afterwards  I  sinned  to  benefit  myself. 
Go,  I  say!  God  knows  what  may  be  your  motives  for 
tempting  me — you  and  Tomei — but  I  will  not  listen  to 
you  any  more/ 

Marco  Savelli,  astonished  and  alarmed  at  this  sudden 
outburst,  looked  at  his  uncle  in  silence  for  a  moment  or 
two.  Then  he  moved  quickly  towards  the  door. 

The  Cardinal's  voice  arrested  him  on  the  threshold. 

( I  know  it  is  because  you  wish  to  help  me  that  you  speak 
as  you  do/  Cardinal  Savelli  said.  '  But  you  do  not  under- 
stand, Marco.  If  the  money  was  yours  instead  of  being 
Diana's,  you  would  do  all  you  could  to  make  things  easier 
for  me — oh,  I  know  that  very  well !  But,  as  it  is,  you  make 
things  more  difficult — you  cannot  realize  how  much  more, 
difficult.' 

He  broke  off  suddenly  and  leaned  back  in-  his  seat. 

All  trace  of  anger  had  vanished,  and  his  eyes  rested  on 
his  nephew  affectionately,  though  very  sadly. 

Marco  Savelli  pushed  aside  the  portiere  and  opened  the 
door  behind  it. 


340  DONNA   DIANA 

'  We  will  discuss  the  subject  again/  he  said  coldly, '  when 
you  have  had  your  interview  with  the  hero  of  this  morning's 
police  reports.  Certainly,  if  the  money  were  mine,  you 
should  not  be  in  any  financial  difficulties.  But  then, 
again,  were  I  responsible  for  Diana  and  her  money,  I 
should  not  resign  them  to  a  pessimo  soggetto  like  Vane.' 

And  then,  without  further  words,  he  left  the  room. 


CHAPTEE  XXVIII 

WHEN  Edmund  Vane  reached  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco 
between  seven  and  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  found 
the  old  porter  Antonio  in  a  state  of  mingled  excitement 
and  distress.  The  newspaper  vendors  had  already  hastened 
to  communicate  the  adventure  that  had  befallen  Don 
Michelangelo  Savelli  the  night  before,  and  a  sensational 
account  of  it  published  in  the  columns  of  the  Messaggiero 
had  been  read  several  times  over  by  Antonio's  youngest  son, 
the  scholar  of  the  family,  in  the  recesses  of  the  porter's 
lodge,  where  a  group  of  friends  and  acquaintances  had 
listened  open-mouthed  to  the  fattaccio. 

As  soon  as  the  old  man  saw  Vane  descending  from  his 
cab  he  had  become  very  pale,  and  asked  him  in  a  whisper 
if  the  signorino  were  dead.  Edmund  hastened  to  reassure 
him  by  telling  him  that  Don  Michelangelo  was  very  much 
alive,  and  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  dying.  Then, 
knowing  the  power  of  circulating  gossip  possessed  by 
Eoman  house-porters,  he  added  that  the  whole  affair  had 
been  absurdly  exaggerated.  Nevertheless,  his  appearance 
at  the  Palazzo  San  Eocco  at  that  hour  of  the  morning,  and 
his  request  that  the  Prince  should  be  informed  that  he 
wished  to  see  him  as  soon  as  it  was  possible  for  the  latter 
to  receive  him,  could  not  but  fill  the  minds  of  the  house- 
hold with  every  sort  of  sinister  forebodings. 

After  a  short  delay,  he  had  been  ushered  into  Prince 
San  Eocco's  private  room,  and  at  once  gathered  that  nobody 
had  as  yet  ventured  to  inform  him  of  the  startling  an- 
nouncement made  by  the  morning  journals. 

For  a  few  minutes  his  relief  at  hearing  that  his  favourite 
nephew's  state  gave  no  cause  for  alarm  or  anxiety  pre- 
dominated over  every  other  feeling  in  Prince  San  Eocco's 

341 


342  DONNA   DIANA 

mind.  It  was  only  after  this  feeling  had  partially  subsided 
that  he  began  to  realize  the  vulgar  sordidness  of  the 
circumstances  under  which  Lino  had  so  nearly  met  with 
his  death. 

When  he  did  realize  them,  Prince  San  Eocco  became 
furiously  angry,  and  his  anger,  as  was  very  natural,  turned 
against  Vane. 

The  latter  listened  to  his  upbraidings  without  attempt- 
ing to  argue  with  him  or  to  justify  himself,  feeling  that  it 
would  be  useless  to  do  either  the  one  or  the  other  until  the 
proud  old  Roman's  indignation  became  less  fiery. 

Probably  it  was  this  very  calmness  and  self-restraint  on 
Edmund's  part  that  caused  Prince  San  Rocco  suddenly  to 
consider  whether  he  were  not  judging  both  him  and  Lino 
somewhat  hastily.  He  paused  abruptly  in  the  midst  of  his 
angry  comments,  and  looked  at  Vane  steadily. 

6  You  do  not  offer  any  excuses  for  this  discreditable 
affair/  he  observed. 

'  No/  Vane  replied  quietly,  ( I  do  not.  Were  I  to  offer 
excuses  or  explanations,  it  would  be  a  proof  that  I  knew 
them  to  be  necessary.' 

( And  do  you  suppose  that  they  are  not  necessary  ? '  asked 
Prince  San  Rocco  testily,  astonished  at  this  exhibition  of 
British  phlegm.  '  It  appears  to  me/  he  added,  '  that  they 
are  more  necessary  in  your  case  than  in  my  nephew's.  He 
at  least  is  not  in  the  delicate  position  of  seeking  permission 
to  pay  his  addresses  to  a  young  girl.' 

'  That  is  the  very  reason  why  I  must  decline  to  offer  any 
explanations/  said  Edmund.  'Your  nephew  and  I  have 
been  attacked,  and  our  lives  threatened.  It  is  from  other 
quarters  that  explanations  must  come  as  to  why  we  were 
singled  out  for  aggression.  As  to  the  supposition  that  we 
had  interfered  with  the  woman  who  was  the  accomplice  of 
our  aggressors,  to  you,  Prince,  I  am  ready  to  swear  that 
it  is  utterly  and  completely  a  false  supposition,  though  I 
quite  grant  it  to  be  a  very  natural  one,  under  the  circum- 
stances/ 

'  Oh/  replied  Prince  San  Rocco  dryly,  '  very  natural 


DONNA   DIANA  343 

indeed.  But,  Mr.  Vane,  you  are  not  at  this  moment  talking 
to  Cardinal  Savelli/ 

Vane  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

( I  do  not  know  what  you  mean/  he  said. 

'  I  mean/  returned  Prince  San  Rocco,  ( that  we  can 
discuss  the  subject  as  men  of  the  world.  My  brother-in-law 
the  Cardinal  might  not  regard  the  matter  from  that  point 
of  view,  and  would  be  less  likely  to  make  allowances  for 
certain  follies  than  I  should  be.  After  all,  some  men  are 
lucky  in  their  adventures,  and  others  are  unlucky.  You 
and  Lino,  I  fear,  belong  to  the  latter  category,  Mr.  Vane 
— at  least,  you  have  tombes  mal  in  this  instance.  Is  it 
not  so  ?  * 

Edmund  could  scarcely  repress  a  smile,  which  Prince 
San  Rocco  saw  and  misinterpreted. 

( Is  it  not  so  ? '  he  repeated. 

'I  should  say  exactly  the  same  to  His  Eminence  Car- 
dinal Savelli  as  I  say  to  you/  replied  Edmund.  Then  he 
added  quietly:  'You  are  trying  to  entrap  me  into  mak- 
ing a  confession,  Prince;  but  I  have  no  confession  to 
make/ 

Prince  San  Rocco  looked  somewhat  taken  aback  for  a 
moment.  Then  he  laughed  an  honest,  good-humoured 
laugh. 

'  Diavolo ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  It  is  quite  true.  I  was 
trying  to  make  confession  easy  for  you.  But  I  believe 
you,  Mr.  Vane,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  do  so.  Whether 
the  Cardinal  will  believe  you  is  another  matter.  The 
question  remains,  however,  as  to  the  motive  for  this  ag- 
gression/ 

'  The  motive,  I  should  imagine,  was  probably  the  same  as 
that  of  most  attacks  of  a  similar  kind/  said  Edmund. 
c  Those  who  made  it  wanted  to  extort  money,  and,  failing 
to  do  so,  had  resort  to  violence.' 

He  spoke  in  as  indifferent  and  careless  a  tone  as  he  could 
assume ;  but  lying  did  not  come  easily  to  him,  and  he  was 
afraid  of  either  underacting  or  overacting  his  part. 

Prince  San  Rocco  was  silent  for  a  few  moments. 


344  DONNA   DIANA 

'  It  is  strange/  he  said  presently,  '  and  I  do  not  under- 
stand it.  Like  every  other  nation,  we  still  have  occasional 
cases  of  highway  robbery,  though  in  Rome  they  are  very 
rare  in  comparison  with  what  they  were  twenty  or  thirty 
years  ago.  As  a  rule,  the  barabba  are  clever  enough  to 
know  the  types  they  are  dealing  with,  and — well,  it  is 
only  fair  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Vane — their  victims  are  as  often 
as  not  foreigners  who  are  engaged  in  no  good.  By  the  way/ 
he  added,  looking  round  the  room, '  I  have  not  seen  a  news- 
paper this  morning/ 

Vane  produced  the  Popolo  Romano  from  his  pocket.  He 
had  bought  it  on  his  way  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco,  and 
had  eagerly  read  the  report  of  his  and  Lino  Savelli's  ex- 
periences of  last  night. 

'  The  report  is  accurate  enough  in  detail/  he  said,  hand- 
ing the  paper  to  Prince  San  Rocco.  '  What  are  not  accu- 
rate, however,  are  the  surmises  of  the  reporter/ 

Prince  San  Rocco  read  the  paragraph  from  beginning  to 
end,  losing  his  temper  a  second  time  as  he  did  so. 

clf  you  knocked  one  of  the  scoundrels  down,  and  the 
other  two  ran  away,  why  the  devil  didn't  you  have  him 
arrested  ? '  he  exclaimed.  '  Then,  at  least,  there  would  have 
been  no  mystery,  for  he  would  probably  have  confessed 
everything  to  the  police/ 

Vane  had  expected  so  very  obvious  a  question,  but  it  was 
none  the  less  difficult  to  answer. 

'  Our  one  object  was  to  get  away/  he  said,  after  a  slight 
hesitation.  ( You  remember,  Prince,  that  Lino  had  no 
idea  he  had  been  stabbed.  The  most  prudent  course  seemed 
to  be  to  leave  the  fellow  where  he  was.  We  were  thankful 
to  have  escaped,  as  we  then  thought,  so  easily,  and  without 
any  guardia  arriving  on  the  scene  to  make  the  affair 
public/ 

'  Yes,  yes,  that  is  true/  observed  the  Prince.  '  I  had 
forgotten  that  Lino  was  not  aware  of  having  been  stabbed. 
But  you  see  the  construction  the  public  will  place  upon  the 
whole  thing/  he  added  angrily.  ( For  Lino  it  does  not 
matter  so  very  much;  people  will  sympathize  with  him 


DONNA   DIANA  345 

rather  than  not  for  having  had  such  a  piece  of  bad  luck, 
though  they  will  think  him  a  fool  for  running  after  a 

woman  in  the  streets  when '  Prince  San  Rocco  checked 

himself  suddenly.  '  But  for  you,  Mr.  Vane/  he  continued, 
'it  will  matter  a  great  deal,  and  for  Diana  also/ 

'  I  do  not  see  why  it  should/  said  Edmund.  '  As  long 
as  Cardinal  Savelli  and  Donna  Diana's  family  are  satisfied 
that  there  are  no  other  grounds  for  these  insinuations  than 
the  imagination  of  a  newspaper  reporter,  I  cannot  see  why 
it  should  injure  me.  Of  course/  he  added  haughtily,  'if 
my  word  is  doubted  by  those  who  are  responsible  for  Donna 
Diana  Savelli's  happiness,  you  can  quite  understand, 
Prince,  that  I  should  no  longer  desire  to  continue  our 
negotiations.  But  if  my  word  is  doubted,  then  Lino  and 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  must  also  be  suspected  of  lying. 
I  might  be  supposed  to  have  good  reasons  for  lying,  but 
these  reasons  could  scarcely  apply  to  Lino,  and  certainly 
not  to  an  entirely  independent  witness  such  as  Monsieur 
de  Villebois/ 

'  De  Villebois ! '  exclaimed  the  Prince.  '  Is  De  Villebois 
the  diplomat  alluded  to  ?  I  thought,  of  course,  that  it  was 
some  attache,  who  had  probably  given  a  hundred  francs 
to  have  his  name  kept  out  of  the  business  so  as  not  to  get 
into  a  scrape  with  his  Ambassador.  But  De  Villebois — 
that  is  quite  another  matter.  Why  did  you  not  tell  me 
before  that  he  was  with  you  and  Lino  ? ' 

'  Because,  Prince,  I  naturally  concluded  that  you  would 
believe  my  statements  as  readily  as  you  would  believe  his/ 
answered  Edmund. 

Prince  San  Eocco  glanced  at  him  approvingly.  Being 
a  thorough  gentleman  himself,  he  could  tell  another  when 
he  met  him,  to  whatever  race  or  class  the  latter  might 
belong. 

'You  concluded  rightly,  Mr.  Vane/  he  said,  with  a 
courtly  bow.  '  I  am  not  thinking  of  myself/  he  added, 
e  for  I  have  never  believed  anything  I  may  have  heard  to 
your  disadvantage.  You  saved  my  nephew's  life;  I  have 
never  forgotten  it,  and  I  may  tell  you  that  in  my  opinion 


346  DONNA   DIANA 

others  of  his  family  are  not  as  mindful  of  the  fact  as 
they  might  be.' 

1 1  merely  did  for  Lino  what  anybody  would  have  done 
under  the  circumstances/  said  Edmund,  ( but  I  ran  no 
personal  risk  in  doing  it.  He,  on  the  contrary,  risked  his 
life  last  night  to  save  mine,  so  the  debt  is  all  on  my  side.' 

'  Eisked  his  life  ?  '  repeated  Prince  San  Kocco.  ( But  I 
thought  you  had  put  your  aggressor  hors  de  combat,  and 
that  the  other  villain  then  attacked  Lino.  You  did  not 
tell  me  this,  Mr.  Vane,  nor  do  I  see  any  mention  of  it  in 
the  paper.' 

*  I  told  you  the  bare  fact  of  having  been  attacked  by 
two  men  under  the  excuse  that  we  had  molested  a  woman 
who  was  in  their  company,'  answered  Vane.  '  You  did 
not  give  me  any  opportunity  to  go  into  more  details,'  he 
added  dryly. 

Prince  San  Kocco  laughed. 

'  I  dare  say  not,'  he  said.  '  The  mere  fact  that  my 
nephew  and  you  had  been  implicated  in  a  vulgar  street 
brawl  concerning  a  woman,  as  I  supposed  it  to  be,  made 
me  lose  my  temper.  You  English  do  not  understand  our 
rabbia  Italiana;  but  you  can  understand  it  was  not  agree^ 
able  to  know  that  my  nephew,  and  the  man  whom  I  had 
determined  to  assist  in  marrying  my  niece,  would  figure 
in  the  police  reports  and  become  the  subject  of  gossip  in 
every  house  and  cafe  in  Eome.  Perhaps  you  will  tell  me 
what  Lino  did/ 

Edmund  related  how  Lino  Savelli  had  intercepted  the 
rush  made  at  him  by  the  second  individual  who  had  so 
nearly  taken  him  unawares.  He  described  how  Lino  had 
thrust  him  back  against  the  wall  and  interposed  his  own 
person  between  him  and  his  would-be  murderer,  and  how 
he  had  received  the  blow  in  his  back  as  he  turned  to  close 
with  his  assailants. 

Prince  San  Eocco  listened,  and  his  face  flushed  with 
pride  and  emotion. 

tf  It  was  like  Lino,'  he  said.  '  The  boy  was  always  brave 
and  generous.  He  is  strong-willed,  perhaps,  and  im- 


DONNA   DIANA  347 

petuous,  and  he  does  not  go  to  Mass,  but  his  heart  is  in 
the  right  place,  and  I  would  sooner  trust  him  than — than 
many  who  go  to  Mass  every  festa  and  confess  once  a 
month/ 

cDo  you  think  Cardinal  Savelli  will  receive  me  after 
this  business  ? '  asked  Vane  nervously. 

'  He  shall  receive  you ! '  replied  the  Prince  with  unusual 
energy.  '  We  must  talk  over  this  matter  and  see  what  can 
be  done.  By  the  way,  I  dare  say  you  have  had  no  coffee 
yet,  so  perhaps  you  will  allow  me  to  ring  and  order  some 
to  be  brought  for  us  both.  Sit  down  again,  Mr.  Vane,  and 
oblige  me  by  putting  this  infernal  newspaper  out  of  my 
sight;  it  makes  me  angry  again  when  I  think  of  all  the 
idiots  who  are  reading  that  paragraph/ 

Edmund  returned  the  offending  journal  to  his  pocket 
as  a  servant  appeared  in  answer  to  the  bell,  and  Prince 
San  Eocco  gave  his  orders. 

Neither  of  them  spoke  during  the  short  interval  that 
elapsed  before  the  man  reappeared  with  the  coffee,  which 
he  silently  placed  on  the  table  near  them  and  immediately 
left  the  room. 

Prince  San  Eocco  poured  out  a  cup  of  coffee  for  his 
visitor. 

(  Have  you  any  reason  to  suppose  that  you  have  enemies 
here  in  Eome  ?  '  he  asked  presently — ( anybody,  I  mean, 
whose  interest  it  might  be  to  get  you  into  trouble  ? ' 

Edmund  hesitated.  It  was  becoming  clear  to  him  that 
it  would  be  more  difficult  than  he  had  anticipated  not 
to  reveal  his  convictions  as  to  the  quarter  in  which  the 
conspiracy  against  him  originated. 

'  I  have  certainly  never  injured  anybody  in  Eome,  if 
you  mean  that,'  he  replied. 

' Nevertheless/  said  Prince  San  Eocco,  'you  must  have 
enemies.  It  is  not  so  long  ago  since  it  was  asserted  that 
you  had  paid  my  nephew  Lino's  debts,  and  that  he,  in 
return  for  this  service,  had  undertaken  to  help  you  to  win 
his  cousin's  hand.  Then  mysterious  hints  as  to  discredit- 
able things  in  your  private  life  reached  us — my  wife  and 


348  DONNA   DIANA 

myself — and,  of  course,  they  reached  the  Cardinal's  ears 
also/ 

'  What  things  ? '  asked  Vane. 

e  Oh,  indefinite  suggestions.  I  need  not  go  into  par- 
ticulars; but,  as  you  know,  these  are  often  the  most 
harmful,  because  they  are  so  difficult  to  disprove/ 

6 1  never  knew  of  these  calumnies ! '  exclaimed  Edmund 
indignantly.  '  Both  Lino  and  I  were  quite  aware  of  the 
attempt  to  make  out  that  I  had  bribed  him  by  paying  his 
debts,  but  the  story  was  so  absurd  that  we  decided  to  take 
no  notice  of  it.  De  Villebois  told  me  of  it,  and  I  told 
Lino/ 

cAnd  Lino  told  me  where  Monsieur  de  Villebois  had 
heard  that  story/  said  Prince  San  Eocco  quietly. 

Edmund  looked  at  him  quickly. 

£  Yes/  he  said ;  '  but  one  does  not  attach  very  great  im- 
portance to  stories  that  originate  in  women's  drawing- 
rooms/ 

(  They  seldom  originate  elsewhere/  observed  the  Prince 
dryly. 

Edmund  smiled.  Then  he  looked  Prince  San  Rocco 
straight  in  the  face. 

( I  never  wish  to  inquire  as  to  who  originated  these 
stories/  he  said  quietly,  'nor  as  to  the  motives  for  which 
they  were  invented.  Neither  do  I  wish  to  investigate  the 
object  of  the  attack  upon  Lino  and  myself  last  night.  If 
there  is  any  connection  between  them,  I  should  prefer  not 
to  know  it.  My  only  desire  is  to  convince  Cardinal  Savelli 
that  I  should  make  his  niece  a  good  husband,  if  she  should 
ultimately  decide  to  accept  me  as  a  husband,  and  to  make 
him  understand  that  Donna  Diana's  fortune  is  nothing 
to  me.  I  want  her — I  do  not  want  her  money.  I  can 
make  good  settlements  upon  my  wife,  Prince;  and  were 
Donna  Diana  Savelli  to  honour  me  by  marrying  me,  I 
should  insist  upon  her  fortune  remaining  entirely  in  her 
own  power/ 

Prince  San  Rocco  poured  himself  out  a  little  more  black 
coffee. 


DONNA   DIANA  349 

'  Corpo  di  Bacco ! '  was  his  only  reply  to  this  remark, 
and  then  he  relapsed  into  silence,  during  which  he  looked 
at  Edmund  with  unconcealed  wonder  and  curiosity.  '  Your 
appointment  with  the  Cardinal  is  for  this  afternoon/  he 
observed  at  length.  (  Should  you  have  any  objection  to 
my  sending  him  a  note  to  say  that  I  will  accompany  you, 
Mr.  Vane?' 

'  Objection ! '  re-echoed  Edmund.  '  I  should  think  not ; 
indeed  I  should  be  most  grateful  to  you/ 

'  It  would  be  as  well  that  I  should  do  so,'  continued 
Prince  San  Eocco.  '  My  brother-in-law  may  have  heard 
a  very  different  version  of  last  night's  affair  from  that 
I  have  gathered  from  you.  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  I  con- 
clude, would  have  no  objection,  either,  to  adding  his  testi- 
mony to  your  own  ?  ' 

'  He  told  me  that  I  might  call  upon  him  to  do  so  at  any 
moment  I  chose.' 

i  Benissimo  ! '  returned  the  Prince.  '  Then,  Mr.  Vane, 
perhaps  you  will  communicate  with  him,  and  ask  him  to 
meet  us  here  shortly  before  four  o'clock.  I  will  send  a 
note  to  my  brother-in-law  at  once.  I  am  certain  he  will 
consent;  for  I  assure  you  that,  whatever  he  may  have 
been  in  the  past,  since  Diana's  illness  he  has  not  been  at 
all  indisposed  to  listen  favourably  to  your  suit — not  at 
all.  In  the  meantime,  we  will  go  to  Sant'  Antonio,  and 
ask  to  see  Lino.  But  first  of  all,  if  you  will  excuse  me  for 
a  few  minutes,  I  will  go  to  the  Princess.  She  will  not 
have  seen  the  papers — she  never  reads  them — and  I  do 
not  think  anybody  would  venture  to  tell  her  of  Lino's 
misadventure.  Mercifully,  Frau  von  Eaben  is  safely  out 
of  the  way  at  Magnano.  I  wish  my  wife  would  send  Frau 
von  Eaben  back  to  Germany !  She  does  not  improve  with 
keeping,  and  the  servants  detest  her.  Here  are  cigarettes, 
and  you  have  got  the  newspaper.' 

And  Prince  San  Eocco  lighted  a  cigarette,  and,  grum- 
bling to  himself  as  he  went,  proceeded  to  his  wife's 
rooms. 

Punctually  at  four  o'clock  that  afternoon  Prince  San 


350  DONNA   DIANA 

Rocco's  carriage  drove  into  the  courtyard  of  the  house  in 
the  Via  Giulia  in  which  Cardinal  Savelli  resided.  The 
carriage  was  closed,  for  Prince  San  Rocco  did  not  care  to 
expose  himself  to  the  gaze  of  the  curious  among  the 
passers-by,  since  all  Rome  would  be  discussing  the  sup- 
posed scandal  that  had  occurred  in  Casa  Savelli,  with 
which  family  he  was  known  to  be  so  closely  connected. 
The  report  given  to  the  Prince  and  Vane  at  the  hospital 
of  Sant'  Antonio  had  been  entirely  satisfactory,  and  they 
had  been  permitted  to  see  Lino  Savelli  for  a  few  minutes. 
Quiet  was  the  only  thing  the  surgeons  insisted  upon  for 
their  patient,  and  they  hoped  that,  in  the  course  of  a 
couple  of  days,  when  the  wound  had  been  dressed  a  second 
time,  he  could  safely  be  removed  to  the  Palazzo  San  Rocco 
where  the  Prince  and  Princess  both  wished  him  to  remain 
until  he  should  be  completely  recovered. 

During  their  short  interview  Lino  had  not  said  a  word 
to  imply  that  he  regarded  the  assault  made  upon  Vane 
and  himself  as  anything  more  than  an  attempt  to  rob  them. 
He  was,  of  course,  in  ignorance  of  what  the  papers  had 
published  on  the  subject,  neither  did  his  uncle  or  Edmund 
enlighten  him.  Nevertheless,  as  the  latter  were  leaving 
the  private  room  which  had  been  given  him  by  the  hospital 
authorities,  he  called  Vane  back  to  his  bedside. 

'Do  you  remember,  Eddie/  he  said,  as  soon  as  Prince 
San  Rocco  was  out  of  earshot,  '  my  telling  you — the  day 
we  rode  together  to  Prima  Porta — that  love  often  ended 
in  tragedy  or  corned}',  and  that  in  my  country  the  two 
latter  lay  very  near  together?  It  strikes  me  that  I  was 
about  right.  What  do  you  think  ? ' 

Vane  shivered. 

'  Don't  talk  of  it,  Lino ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  When  I  think 
how  near  we  have  been  to  tragedy  I  feel — sick/ 

'Yes,  we  have  been  near  enough/  returned  Lino;  'but 
I  expect  it  has  been  rather  a  good  thing  for  you  than  other- 
wise/ 

'  For  me ! 9  repeated  Vane.  ( But,  good  God !  think  what 
might  have  happened  to  you !  I  simply  can't  think  of  it, 


DONNA   DIANA  351 

I  tell  you.  And  why  should  you  suppose  it  to  be  a  good 
thing  for  me,  Lino  ? 9  he  added. 

'  Why  ?  Oh,  because  Diana  will  look  upon  you  as  a  more 
interesting  person  than  ever/  replied  Lino  with  a  smile. 

'  Do  you  think  so  ?  '  said  Edmund.  '  And  what  will  her 
guardian,  Cardinal  Savelli,  think  of  our  adventure  ? ' 

( That  is  exactly  what  I  should  like  to  know/  said  Lino 
dryly.  '  Its  result  will  certainly  be  disappointing  to  some- 
body/ 

Vane  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

'  It  will  be  disappointing  to  our  would-be  blackmailers/ 
he  said. 

Lino  Savelli  smiled  quietly. 

'You  don't  do  it  at  all  well,  Eddie/  he  observed. 
'  Indeed,  I  never  knew  anyone  lie  so  clumsily.  To  begin 
with,  you  assume  that  I  am  an  idiot,  and  that  I  am  unable 
to  see  for  myself  that  two  and  two  make  four.' 

'  What  do  you  mean  ? '  asked  Vane,  although  he  knew 
but  too  well. 

'  I  will  tell  you  what  I  mean  after  you  have  had  your 
interview  with  my  uncle,  Savelli.  You  tell  me  you  are 
going  to  see  him  to-day  all  the  same.  I  must  say  that 
I  am  surprised.  I  thought  that  you  would  have  received 
an  indignant  message  to  tell  you  not  to  presume  to  do 
so.  I  cannot  make  out  my  eminent  uncle/  he  added. 
(  There  is  some  mystery  about  his  sudden  anxiety  to  be 
friendly  with  you — but  perhaps  your  interview  to-day  will 
clear  it  up/ 

'  Lino ! '  exclaimed  Edmund  quickly,  '  I  believe  that  you 
are  doing  Cardinal  Savelli  a  great  injustice  in  your  mind, 
and  that  some  day  you  will  be  very  sorry  for  it/ 

'  Perhaps  I  am/  said  Lino  thoughtfully.  '  Indeed,  I 
have  wondered  of  late  whether  I  should  not  pity  rather 
than  blame  him.  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Eddie ;  I  am  sure 
I  hope  that  you  are/ 

*  Anyhow/  returned  Vane,  '  Prince  San  Eocco  and  De 
Villebois  will  see  me  safely  through  the  business  of  this 
afternoon/ 


352  DONNA   DIANA 

'  What ! '  exclaimed  Lino.  '  Does  De  Villebois  go  with 
you  ?  Does  my  uncle  consent  to  that  ?  ' 

'  Prince  San  Eocco  says  there  is  no  doubt  he  will  consent, 
as  De  Villebois  is  an  independent  witness  to  last  night's 
affair/ 

'  I  am  very  glad,  Eddie,  very  glad/  Lino  said,  and  then 
he  added,  as  though  to  himself:  'but  what  the  deuce  is 
Marco  about  ? ' 

Yane  pretended  not  to  hear  him. 

'  Good-bye,  old  fellow/  he  said.  el  mustn't  keep  the 
Prince  waiting  any  more,  and  you  have  talked  quite 
enough/ 

(  One  moment,  Eddie.  What  do  the  papers  say  of  our 
row  last  night?  The  doctors  won't  tell  me;  they  look 
the  other  way  when  I  ask  them,  and  talk  about  liga- 
ments/ 

'  Oh !  they  say  it  is  a  case  of  souteneurs,'  answered  Vane. 
'  The  police  think  the  same  thing/ 

'  Of  course/  said  Lino  briefly. 

And  Vane  left  him,  glad  to  escape  from  his  questions. 

On  reaching  Cardinal  Savelli's  apartment,  Prince  San 
Rocco  and  his  two  companions  were  ushered  by  his  mag- 
giordomo  into  the  reception-room,  where  they  remained 
while  the  latter  went  to  inform  the  Cardinal  of  their 
arrival. 

Vane  found  himself  thinking  that  it  was  very  like 
waiting  his  turn  to  be  shown  in  to  the  dentist,  only  he 
felt  that  he  would  far  prefer  a  visit  to  the  dentist  to  the 
interview  before  him.  Minutes  passed  that  seemed  like 
hours. 

Prince  San  Rocco  walked  restlessly  about  the  room,  and 
Monsieur  de  Villebois  looked  out  of  the  window. 

Presently  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  long  apartment 
opened,  and  Cardinal  Savelli  came  slowly  towards  them. 
He  greeted  Edmund  and  Monsieur  de  Villebois  with  grave 
courtesy,  withdrawing  his  hand  somewhat  hastily  as  the 
former  made  a  motion  as  though  to  kiss  his  ring. 

Taking  his  brother-in-law  aside,  the  Cardinal  entered 


DONNA   DIANA  353 

into  an  earnest  conversation  with  him.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  others,  and  said: 

6  We  shall  be  more  secure  from  interruption  in  my 
study/  and  led  the  way  thither. 

Vane,  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  and  Prince  San  Eocco 
followed  him  in  silence;  and  again  Edmund  thought  of 
the  dentist,  or  of  the  preliminaries  to  a  surgical  operation. 

Prince  San  Kocco  was  the  first  to  speak  when  Cardinal 
Savelli,  after  placing  himself  at  his  writing-table,  had 
motioned  them  to  sit  down  also. 

'  You  know  the  object  of  our  visit,  Camillo/  he  said 
to  his  brother-in-law.  'Mr.  Yane  had  intended  formally 
to  ask  your  consent  to  his  proposal  to  marry  our  niece 
Diana,  but  after  the  unfortunate  occurrence  of  last  night, 
he  wishes  first  of  all  to  convince  you  of  his  worthiness  to 
do  so.  Is  it  not  so,  Mr.  Vane?'  he  added,  turning  to 
Edmund. 

'  Yes/  replied  the  latter  simply.  '  After  reading  the 
newspaper  reports  of  that  occurrence,  I  naturally  feel  your 
Eminence  has  a  right  to  ask  for  explanations/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  steadily. 

'  I  shall  be  very  happy  to  hear  them/  he  said  gravely, 
and  then  he  paused  inquiringly. 

'  The  newspapers  are  right  as  to  the  details  of  the 
assault  made  upon  your  nephew  and  myself,'  said  Vane, 
and  he  proceeded  to  relate  exactly  what  had  happened. 

'And  the  woman?'  asked  Cardinal  Savelli,  after  he 
had  listened  attentively  to  Edmund's  story. 

'  Both  the  woman  and  the  individual  who  stabbed  your 
nephew  made  off  at  once.  The  other  man  we  left  lying  on 
the  pavement  still  unconscious/ 

'  And  what  do  you  suppose  to  have  been  the  motive  of 
this  attack?'  inquired  the  Cardinal. 

His  eyes  rested  anxiously  on  Vane  as  he  asked  the 
question,  and  he  drew  the  gold  chain  to  which  his  pectoral 
cross  was  attached  nervously  through  his  fingers. 

'  Money/  answered  Edmund  laconically. 

Cardinal  Savelli  drew  a  long  breath,  as  if  of  relief. 


354  DONNA   DIANA 

'  Go  on,  Mr.  Vane,  if  you  please,'  he  said. 

'  The  newspapers  draw  an  altogether  unwarrantable, 
though  no  doubt  very  natural,  inference  from  the  fact  of 
a  woman  having  been  present/  continued  Vane,  '  and  sug- 
gest things  which  both  your  nephew  and  I  declare  to  be 
utterly  untrue.  Your  Eminence  must  know/  he  added, 
'  that  it  was  I  who  informed  the  police  of  the  woman's 
presence,  otherwise  they  would  not  have  been  aware  of  it. 
I  should  hardly  have  been  so  foolish  as  to  allude  to  her 
had  there  been  any  grounds  for  the  inferences  made  in 
the  newspapers/ 

6  Of  course  not,  of  course  not/  interposed  Prince  San 
Eocco.  ( A  very  strong  argument,  eh,  Camillo  ? '  he 
added. 

Cardinal  Savelli  made  no  remark.  The  momentary  look 
of  relief  had  passed  from  his  face,  and  in  its  stead  had 
come  an  expression  of  pain  and  perplexity.  Monsieur 
de  Villebois,  who  had  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation, 
seemed  to  be  fully  occupied  in  watching  the  Cardinal, 
and  Edmund  noticed  that  he  did  so  in  a  manner  that  was 
almost  relentless. 

Presently  Cardinal  Savelli  spoke  again. 

'  Have  you,  to  your  knowledge,  any  particular  enemy 
in  Eome,  Mr.  Vane  ? '  he  asked. 

It  was  the  same  question  that  Prince  San  Rocco  had 
put  to  him  earlier  in  the  day,  and  Vane  could  not  help 
being  struck  by  the  circumstance.  It  reminded  him  that 
he  was  in  a  land  where  blood  is  still  required  as  satisfaction 
for  real  or  supposed  injuries.  That  these  two  Roman 
Princes  should  so  readily  recognise  the  fact  seemed  to 
him  to  be  another  example  of  the  medievalism  by  which 
he  had  for  some  time  felt  a  vague  sense  of  being  sur- 
rounded. 

'  No,  Eminence/  he  replied,  e  not  that  I  am  aware  of/ 

6  For  instance/  proceeded  the  Cardinal,  '  you  have  not — 
how  shall  I  explain  it? — made  any  person  jealous  of  you 
by — well,  by  any  intrigues  with  women,  I  suppose?  I  am 
speaking  of  the  past,  of  course,  of  your  life  here  before 


DONNA   DIANA  355 

you  had  made  my  niece's  acquaintance.  Young  men  are 
apt  to  be  heedless  of  the  rights  of  others — the  rights  of 
lovers  or  husbands — and  sometimes  they  are  made  to  pay 
dearly  for  their  heedlessness,  especially  if  they  have  sought 
for  their  divertimenti  among  the  lower  orders/ 

Edmund  shook  his  head. 

'  I  am  unconscious  of  having  wronged  any  man/  he  said 
dryly.  '  Your  Eminence  must  seek  some  other  motive  for 
the  attempt  to  murder  me  if  you  do  not. consider  the  motive 
I  have  suggested  to  be  sufficient/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  started  perceptibly. 

'  What  motive  ?  '  he  exclaimed.  6 1  was  not  aware  that 
you  had  suggested  any/ 

'  Money/  repeated  Vane,  glancing  at  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois  as  he  spoke.  '  It  appears  to  me  to  be  a  sufficiently 
plausible  motive  to  suggest/ 

The  Cardinal  sighed. 

'  Money  ? '  he  said.  '  Ah  yes,  Mr.  Vane,  money  is  at 
the  bottom  of  most  crimes,  or,  rather,  the  want  of  it  is  so. 
And  what  is  your  opinion,  monsieur  ? '  he  added,  turning 
to  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  I  understand  that  you  were 
with  my  nephew  and  Mr.  Vane  last  night,  and  that  you 
had  only  left  them  very  shortly  before  they  were  attacked. 
I  do  not  understand  how  you  came  to  rejoin  them  a  few 
moments  afterwards/ 

<  It  is  quite  true/  replied  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  Mr. 
Vane  and  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli  were  with  me  the 
whole  evening,  with  the  exception  of  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  or  perhaps  rather  more.  Your  Eminence  asks 
for  my  opinion,  and  it  coincides  with  Mr.  Vane's.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  money  was  indirectly  at  the  bottom  of  this 
attempted  crime/ 

( Indirectly  ?'  echoed  the  Cardinal. 

'  Yes,  indirectly.  Directly,  perhaps,  so  far  as  the  actual 
aggressors  were  concerned/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  anxiously. 

'I  do  not  understand/  he  began. 

'I  will  try  to  explain  to  your  Eminence/  interrupted 


356  DONNA   DIANA 

Monsieur  de  Villebois.  '  I  happen  to  be  in  a  position  to 
give  you  more  information  than  is  contained  in  the  news- 
paper reports,  which  you  have  doubtless  read/  he  continued. 
(  Mr.  Vane,  a  few  minutes  before  we  returned  to  the  Porta 
San  Giovanni  on  our  way  homeward,  drew  my  attention 
to  an  individual  seated  with  another  man  and  woman  at  a 
table  behind  us  outside  the  Osteria  Baldinotti,  where  we 
sat  to  hear  the  songs.  He  had  already  told  me  some  weeks 
ago  that  he  had  reason  to  believe  this  person  was  following 
him.5 

Cardinal  Savelli  started. 

c  Ah ! '  he  exclaimed,  and  he  leaned  forward  in  his  chair 
and  listened  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois  with  evident  anxiety 
and  eagerness. 

'  Yes/  proceeded  the  latter,  '  the  circumstance  impressed 
me  the  more  because  I  had  been  with  Mr.  Vane  on  an- 
other occasion  when  this  individual  followed  him.  Last 
night  I  purposely  separated  from  Mr.  Vane  and  your 
nephew,  being  determined  to  see  if  the  former  was  right 
in  his  suspicions.  I  soon  received  ample  proof  that  he 
was  so.' 

'  You  never  told  me  of  this ! '  exclaimed  Prince  San 
Rocco,  turning  to  Edmund. 
•  Vane  looked,  and  felt,  infinitely  distressed. 

'  It  was  a  trifle/  he  said  hurriedly — '  an  idea.  Do  not 
let  us  waste  our  time  by  referring  to  it/  he  added  to  Mon- 
sieur de  Villebois  imploringly.  ( Those  scoundrel?  wanted 
to  get  money  out  of  us,  that  was  all.  His  Eminence,  I  am 
sure,  will  accept  this  explanation  as  sufficient,  and  will 
not  believe  the  discreditable  conduct  which  the  papers 
impute  to  me.  I  am  only  here/  he  continued  more  calmly, 
'to  deny  that  imputation,  and  to  inform  Cardinal  Savelli 
that  if  he  or  any  other  member  of  Donna  Diana  Savelli's 
family  continues  to  believe  it  after  my  denial ' 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  interrupted  him. 

'I  agree  witH  you,  Vane/  he  said  quietly.  'Cardinal 
Savelli  will  no  doubt  accept  the  reason  you  have  given  for 
the  attack  made  upon  you,  for  it  was  directed  against  you 


DONNA    DIANA  357 

only  last  night.  Let  us  all  decide  to  regard  the  affair  as 
merely  an  ordinary  aggression  for  the  sake  of  extorting 
any  money  you  might  have  had  about  you.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  rose  from  his  chair,  and  his  whole 
frame  seemed  to  tremble  with  agitation. 

'  No  ! '  he  exclaimed ; '  I  will  hear  all — all,  do  you  under- 
stand?' Suddenly  he  turned  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois. 
'  Do  you  suspect  me  of  having  caused  Mr.  Vane  to  be  fol- 
lowed, monsieur — of  having  instigated  these  men  to  attack 
him?'  He  spoke  almost  fiercely,  and  the  blood  mounted 
to  his  face  until  the  veins  stood  out  purple  black  on  his 
forehead. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  looked  at  him  calmly,  but  a  little 
gleam  of  triumph  came  into  his  eyes,  such  a  gleam  as 
might,  in  his  official  days,  have  shown  itself  after  signing 
some  treaty  advantageous  to  his  Government. 

'Your  Eminence,  then,  is  disposed  to  think  the  attack 
upon  Mr.  Vane  to  have  been  premeditated,  and  the  actual 
perpetrators  of  it  to  be  merely  the  base  instruments  of 
others  ? '  he  observed,  with  diplomatic  suavity. 

Cardinal  Savelli  gave  a  short,  harsh  laugh.  He  did  not 
appear  to  have  heard  Monsieur  de  Villebois'  remark. 

'  We  are  not  brigands,  we  Savelli,'  he  said  to  Prince 
San  Rocco,  who  was  staring  at  him  uneasily.  Then  he 
turned  again  to  Monsieur  de  Villebois.  {  Go  on,  monsieur, 
if  you  please,  with  your  account,'  he  continued  more  quietly. 
'  I  wish,  as  I  said,  to  hear  all.' 

Edmund  interposed  rapidly. 

' There  is  no  more  to  hear,'  he  said;  'and,  as  far  as  I 
am  concerned,  I  only  ask  your  Eminence  to  believe  that 
I  am  incapable  of  dishonouring  Donna  Diana  by  behaving 
in  the  way  imputed  to  me.  I  do  not  profess  to  be  a 
saint,"  he  added  bluntly ;  <  but  since  I  have  known  Donna 

Diana '  And  then  he  paused.  '  I  wish,'  he  continued 

warmly,  'that  your  Eminence  would  not  distress  yourself 
any  further  about  this  matter,  and  that  it  might  now  be 
allowed  to  drop,  for  I  am  quite  indifferent  as  to  what 
may  be  thought  of  me  or  my  conduct,  so  long  as  you 


358  DONNA   DIANA 

do  not  think  me  unworthy  to  ask  for  your  niece's  af- 
fection/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  glanced  at  him  and  smiled  slightly, 
but  he  gave  him  no  reply. 

'  Continue,  monsieur/  he  repeated,  turning  to  Monsieur 
de  Villebois. 

'  As  your  Eminence  wishes/  replied  the  latter.  '  I  fol- 
lowed this  individual  whom  Mr.  Vane  had  pointed  out  to 
me/  he  proceeded,  'and  got  near  enough  to  him  in  the 
crowd  to  overhear  what  he  was  saying  to  his  companions. 
They  cut  across  by-streets  in  order  to  intercept  your  nephew 
and  Mr.  Vane.  It  was  during  these  manoeuvres  that  I  lost 
them  for  a  few  minutes,  owing  to  my  taking  a  wrong 
street,  down  which  I  supposed  they  had  passed.  When  I 
overtook  them  again,  they  had  already  met  their  intended 
victims.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

'You  say  you  overheard  their  conversation?'  he  asked 
suddenly. 

f  Yes/  answered  Monsieur  de  Villebois. 

'  I  wish  to  know  what  you  heard,  monsieur/  returned 
the  Cardinal. 

For  the  first  time  Monsieur  de  Villebois  hesitated,  and 
looked  at  Vane. 

'  You  must  forgive  me,  Eminence/  he  replied ;  e  but, 
once  more,  I  agree  with  Mr.  Vane.  The  matter  should 
be  allowed  to  rest  where  it  is,  since,  by  the  mercy  of  Pro- 
vidence, there  is  no  great  harm  done.' 

Cardinal  Savelli,  perhaps  unconsciously,  assumed  the 
authoritative  manner  of  one  accustomed  to  have  his  orders 
obeyed. 

6 1  wish  to  know  what  you  overheard,  monsieur/  he 
repeated  imperatively. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'As  your  Eminence  insists/  he  replied;  and  then  he 
added:  'Mr.  Vane's  shadower,  who  was  evidently  in  com- 
mand of  the  party,  impressed  upon  the  woman  and  the 
other  individual,  who  was  little  more  than  a  boy,  to  make 


DONNA   DIANA  359 

no  mistake,  but  to  attack  the  Englishman,  and,  if  possible, 
separate  him  from  his  companion  till  the  guardia  should 
come  up/ 

'Yes/  said  Cardinal  Savelli;  'and  what  else  did  this 
individual  say,  monsieur  ?  ' 

' He  added :  "  If  there  is  any  mistake,  we  shall  not  get 
the  money.  That Monsignor  Tomei  will  not  pay  us."  ; 

'Tomei — Tomei!'  exclaimed  Prince  San  Eocco;  'but, 
Camillo,  Tomei  is ' 

6  Your  Eminence's  man  of  business,  is  he  not  ? '  supple- 
mented Monsieur  de  Villebois  placidly. 

Cardinal  Savelli  laughed  again.  It  was  a  strange, 
mirthless  laugh,  and  left  an  unpleasant  impression  on  the 
minds  of  his  listeners,  for  the  echo  of  it  seemed  to  remain 
after  its  harsh  sound  had  ceased. 

All  three  men  looked  at  him  in  silence,  but  he  remained 
gazing  straight  before  him,  his  eyes  fixed  in  a  glassy  stare. 
Suddenly,  with  a  strong  effort,  he  roused  himself  as  though 
from  a  trance. 

e  Tomei,'  he  said,  in  a  thick,  dull  voice.  e  Yes,  he  is  my 
man  of  business,  ma  sapete;  he  is  a  liar.  Oh  yes,  he  is  a 
liar !  And  he  has  ruined  me  with  his  advice.  Do  you  hear, 
Fabrizio?  He  has  ruined  me.  And  now,  now  he  wants 
Diana's  money — all  of  it  that  is  left.' 

Prince  San  Rocco's  face  flushed  angrily,  and  then  be- 
came very  pale. 

6  What  do  you  mean,  Camillo  ?  '  he  exclaimed.  '  You 
are  ill — dreaming.'  And,  going  up  to  his  brother-in-law, 
he  shook  him  by  the  arm. 

Monsieur  de  Villebois  rose  from  his  chair. 

'  I  will  take  my  leave  of  your  Eminence,'  he  said.  <  I 
came  in  order  to  be  of  what  service  I  could  to  Mr.  Vane 
by  relating  my  version  of  last  night's  affair,  feeling  that 
some  other  testimony  besides  his  own  and  your  nephew's 
might  be  necessary  to  remove  any  doubts  as  to  his  having 
become  involved  in  an  affair  discreditable  to  him.  With 
other  subjects  I  have  nothing  to  do.  They  would  seem 
to  be  private  matters  not  to  be  discussed  before  a  stranger.' 


360  DONNA   DIANA 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  up  suddenly. 

'  Yes/  he  said.  '  You  are  right,  monsieur ;  they  are  pri- 
vate matters.  But  I  thank  you/  he  added,  '  for  what  you 
have  told  me.  Perhaps  you  will  not  believe  me  when  I 
say  it,  but  I  am  glad  to  have  had  your  testimony.  Not 
that  I  doubted  Mr.  Vane,  but,  as  you  say,  an  independent 
testimony  is  always  satisfactory,  and,  coming  from  your- 
self, conclusive/ 

There  was  a  certain  quiet  dignity  and  a  gentleness  in 
Cardinal  Savelli's  manner  that  touched  Monsieur  de  Ville- 
bois  strangely.  Moreover,  like  a  true  Frenchman,  he  ap- 
preciated the  compliment  paid  to  his  veracity  in  the  Car- 
dinal's concluding  words.  He  said  nothing,  however,  but 
with  a  low  bow  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

Vane  was  about  to  accompany  him.  He  was  longing  to 
escape  from  the  Cardinal's  presence,  and  from  the  painful 
scene  which  he  felt  sure  was  imminent  between  the  latter 
and  Prince  San  Rocco.  Cardinal  Savelli's  voice  arrested 
him  as  he  was  following  Monsieur  de  Villebois. 

(  Mr.  Vane/  the  Cardinal  said  gravely,  '  am  I  to  under- 
stand that  you  ask  my  consent,  as  my  niece  Donna  Diana 
Savelli's  guardian,  to  marry  her,  should  she  decide  to  ac- 
cept your  proposal?' 

6  That  is  why  I  begged  your  Eminence  to  receive  me  to- 
day/ answered  Edmund,  '  and  I  am  in  hopes  that  you  will 
give  your  consent.' 

c  In  that  case/  continued  Cardinal  Savelli  slowly,  '  I 
must  ask  you  to  remain.  As  you  desire  to  ally  yourself 
with  my  family — as  you — as,  I  say ' 

The  words  came  thickly,  and  he  spoke  with  a  curious 
hesitation,  as  though  he  were  struggling  to  place  them  in 
proper  sequence. 

e  I  hope  that  you  will  allow  me  to  leave  you,  Eminence/ 
Vane  replied  hurriedly  as  the  Cardinal  stuttered  and  then 
paused.  '  Prince  San  Rocco  will  doubtless  convey  your 
decision  to  me.  In  the  meantime,  I  should  not  wish  to 
intrude  my  presence  upon  you.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  waved  his  hand  impatiently. 


DONNA    DIANA  36] 

'  No/  lie  said,  almost  eagerly ;  '  I  am  anxious  that  you 
should  remain,  that  you  should  hear  certain  things  I  have 
to — to  tell  you.  When  you  have  heard  them,  Mr.  Vane, 
you  will  be  free  to  adhere  to  your  proposal  or  not,  as  you 
choose.' 

'  Nothing  that  your  Eminence  can  have  to  tell  me  will 
make  any  difference  to  my  determination/  replied  Vane 
earnestly,  '  unless  it  should  be ' 

'  What  ? '  asked  the  Cardinal  abruptly. 

'That  Donna  Diana  still  adheres  to  her  wish  to  enter 
a  convent.' 

'  She  has  no  such  wish/  said  Cardinal  Savelli,  and  Ed- 
mund's heart  gave  a  sudden  leap. 

The  door  had  closed  on  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  and  Vane 
found  himself  alone  with  the  Cardinal  and  Prince  San 
Eocco.  The  latter  stood  looking  at  his  brother-in-law  in 
bewilderment.  Every  now  and  then  he  uttered  impatient 
exclamations  under  his  breath,  as  though  he  could  scarcely 
restrain  his  curiosity  or  indignation. 

But  Cardinal  Savelli's  agitation  appeared  to  have  sub- 
sided. He  resumed  his  seat  at  his  writing-table,  and  Vane 
was  struck  by  the  expression  of  his  countenance.  It  was 
an  expression  such  as  a  man  might  wear  who  had  nerved 
himself  to  perform  some  deed  requiring  both  moral  cour- 
age and  sacrifice  of  self;  and,  as  he  looked  at  him,  Ed- 
mund felt  more  than  ever  convinced  that,  in  whatever  way 
Cardinal  Savelli  might  have  erred,  he  had  never  con- 
descended to  any  such  baseness  as  that  to  which  Monsieur 
de  Villebois'  suspicions  seemed  to  point. 

Prince  San  Eocco's  amazement  and  curiosity  prevented 
him  from  remaining  silent  for  very  long,  and  Monsieur 
de  Villebois  had  no  sooner  left  the  room  than  he  turned 
to  his  brother-in-law  eagerly. 

'  What  does  it  all  mean,  Camillo  ? '  he  exclaimed.  e  What 
has  Tomei  to  do  with  Diana's  money  ?  and  how  in  Heaven's 
name  came  he  to  be  mixed  up  in  this  outrage  of  last 
night?' 

Cardinal  Savelli  made  no  reply  for  a  few  moments. 


362  DONNA   DIANA 

Resting  his  elbow  on  the  table,  he  covered  his  face  with 
his  hand. 

At  last  he  looked  up,  and  Edmund  Vane  noticed  that 
his  mouth  twitched  nervously. 

'  Tomei ! '  he  said  impatiently.  '  He  has  nothing  to  do 
with  Diana's  money,  Fabrizio — nothing  at  all!  But  he 
wants  it.  Tomei  is  a  dishonest  man,  but  he  is  not  more 
dishonest  than  I  am.' 

6  Camillo ! '  cried  Prince  San  Eocco  angrily.  '  Do  you 
know  what  you  are  saying  ?  ' 

'  Yes,'  replied  the  Cardinal  wearily.  '  I  know  what  I 
am  saying,  and  it  is  true.  Listen ! '  he  added  abruptly. 
'  My  niece  Diana,'  he  continued,  looking  at  Vane,  '  had  a 
fortune  of  a  million  francs,  left  to  her  by  her  father,  and 
confided  to  my  care  until  she  should  attain  her  majority 
or  marry  with  my  consent.  You  are  aware  of  this,  Mr. 
Vane,  I  believe?' 

'Yes,'  answered  Vane;  'but  if  your  Eminence 
thinks ' 

f  Confided  to  me/  repeated  Cardinal  Savelli  without 
heeding  him.  'Do  you  understand?  My  dear  brother 
entrusted  to  me  the  money  he  bequeathed  to  his  only  child. 
Well,  little  more  than  the  half  of  that  money  remains. 
The  rest  I  have  used  for  my  own  purposes,  to  pay  my  own 
debts — to  save  my  own  honour,  as  I  thought.' 

He  paused,  and  Vane  looked  away  lest  he  should  see 
Prince  San  Rocco's  face. 

There  was  something  almost  repugnant  in  the  bald  sim- 
plicity with  which  Cardinal  Savelli  made  his  self-accusa- 
tion— something  which  caused  Vane  to  feel  that  this  man 
was  being  brutal  to  himself,  and  was  lashing  himself  with 
the  whip  of  scorn. 

Prince  San  Rocco  started  forward. 

'Are  you  mad?'  he  said  hoarsely.  'You,  Camillo — 
you ? 

'No/  replied  Cardinal  Savelli  quietly,  'I  am  not  mad, 
Fabrizio.  I  have  taken  the  money — nearly  five  hundred 
thousand  francs  of  it.  One  hundred  thousand  I  took  to 


DONNA   DIANA  363 

pay  Marco's  losses  on  the  Bourse.  That  was  the  beginning 
—I  was  a  faithful  steward  until  then.  Afterwards  I  had 
difficulties  of  my  own — and — and  I  listened  to  Monsignor 
Tomei's  advice,  and  drew  from  the  same  source  in  order 
to  meet  them.  Since  then  I  have  been  in  that  man's 
power,  but  now — now  I  am  not  in  his  power  any  more.' 

Edmund  rose  from  his  chair,  and  came  towards  the 
Cardinal. 

*  Forgive  me,  Eminence/  he  said,  '  but  is  it  necessary 
that  I  should  hear  these  things?' 

Cardinal  Savelli  glanced  at  him. 

'Yes,  it  is  necessary,'  he  replied  briefly.  c Afterwards, 
when  you  have  heard  them,  you  will  perhaps  change  your 
mind  as  to  the  advantages  of  an  alliance  with  my  niece. 
No,  Mr.  Vane,'  he  added,  as  Edmund  was  about  to  speak, 
'  I  must  insist  that  you  hear  me  to  the  end.  At  first  I  be- 
lieved in  my  niece's  vocation,  and  I  encouraged  her  in  her 
determination  to  take  the  veil.  Gradually,  however,  doubts 
arose  in  my  mind — and  the  money — I  did  not  dare 

The  Cardinal  stammered,  and  seemed  to  lose  the  thread 
of  his  ideas.  His  hesitation  lasted  only  for  a  moment  or 
two,  however,  and  then  with  an  effort  of  the  will  he  ap- 
peared to  overcome  it. 

'In  the  meantime,'  he  continued,  cmy  financial  diffi- 
culties were  pressing  upon  me  always  more  and  more 
heavily.  It  is  no  use  wearying  you  with  particulars;  but, 
in  order  to  escape  from  these  difficulties,  I  yielded  to 
Tomei's  counsels,  and  had  recourse  to  my  niece's  fortune. 
Then  came  my  niece's  illness,  and  I  realized  all  that  I 
was  doing.  My  doubts  as  to  the  genuineness  of  Diana's 
vocation  became  a  certainty,  and  I  knew  that  her  nature 
was  asserting  itself  over  an  artificial  state,  a  condition 
produced  by  constant  suggestion  acting  upon  a  young  and 
impressionable  mind.  Monsignor  Tomei  had  arranged  a 
scheme  whereby,  in  the  event  of  my  niece  entering  a  con- 
vent, her  fortune  could  yet  have  remained  in  my  hands 
for  some  years  longer — years  in  which  I  might  reasonably 
hope  to  replace  the  capital  I  had  withdrawn  from  it.  I 


364  DONNA   DIANA 

had  to  choose,  Mr.  Vane — do  you  understand? — to  choose 
between  sacrificing  my  niece — and — and 

'  But  your  Eminence  has  not  hesitated/  interrupted 
Vane. 

'I  have  hesitated  a  great  deal/  said  Cardinal  Savelli 
simply ;  '  but  that  is  all  over  now.  Tomei  has  been  urging 
me  to  place  the  remainder  of  my  niece's  fortune  in  his 
hands,  assuring  me  that  he  could  employ  it  in  such  a  man- 
ner as  to  enable  me  to  regain  the  money  I  have  used.  My 
nephew  Marco,  too,  believes  in  Tomei's  assurances,  but 
he  does  not  understand,  and,  moreover,  he  is  in  ignorance 
that  I.  have  ever  drawn  upon  the  capital  except  on  the  oc- 
casion when  I  did  so  in  order  to  help  him.  Marco  only 
thinks  of  how  best  to  save  me  from  the  embarrassments 
with  which  he  knows  me  to  be  threatened.  But  Monsignor 
Tomei,  Monsignor  Tomei  is  dishonest  and  unscrupulous, 
and  he  is  your  enemy,  Mr.  Vane — your  enemy  as  well  as 
mine,  as  perhaps  you  will  now  have  understood.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  paused  and  looked  at  Vane  anxiously, 
while  Prince  San  Eocco  muttered  angry  exclamations  under 
his  breath. 

'I  think  I  understand  everything/  replied  Edmund, 
f  and,  he  added,  '  I  must  beg  your  Eminence  not  to  attempt 
to  explain  more.  You  have  already  explained  too  much.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  sighed. 

6  You  are  quite  right,  Mr.  Vane/  he  said,  a  little  bitterly. 
'  I  understand  perfectly  that  you  will  not  care,  after  what 
you  have  heard,  to  adhere  to  your  wish  to  marry  my  niece.' 

Vane  smiled. 

( Your  Eminence  is  entirely  mistaken/  he  replied  quietly. 
6  Donna  Diana  Savelli's  fortune  is  absolutely  nothing  to 
me,  neither  do  I  propose  to  inquire  into  its  existence  or  non- 
existence.  I  have  the  honour  again  to  ask  you,  as  Donna 
Diana's  guardian,  for  the  permission  to  propose  to  her.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  as  though 
scarcely  able  to  grasp  the  sense  of  his  words,  then  he  leaned 
forward,  and,  covering  his  face  with  his  hands,  suddenly 
burst  into  tears. 


CHAPTEE    XXIX 

MARCO  SAVELLI  had  not  deemed  it  advisable  to  be  in  the 
house  when  the  Cardinal  received  Edmund  Vane.  He  had 
no  desire  to  take  part  in  their  meeting,  feeling  assured  that 
he  should  learn  from  his  uncle  all  that  had  passed  at  it. 

In  the  meantime  he  had  hastened  to  Monsignor  Tomer's 
abode  in  the  Via  della  Croce.  His  anger  at  the  manner 
in  which  Monsignor  Tomei's  accomplices  had  carried  out 
their  instructions  had  increased  considerably  on  seeing 
that  Cardinal  Savelli  was  by  no  means  so  ready  to  be  con- 
vinced of  Vane's  culpability  as  he  had  hoped  would  be 
the  case.  That  Monsieur  de  Villebois  should  have  been, 
if  not  an  actual  witness  of  what  had  occurred  the  previous 
night,  at  least  in  a  position  to  prove  that  Vane  had  been 
in  his  company  up  to  a  few  minutes  before  the  assault, 
caused  Marco  not  a  little  uneasiness.  Had  his  brother  Lino 
been  the  only  witness,  a  doubt  must  always  have  attached 
to  any  testimony  the  latter  might  give,  as  both  he  and 
Vane  might  reasonably  be  suspected  of  a  desire  to  shield 
one  another.  But  with  Monsieur  de  Villebois  it  was  quite 
a  different  matter,  and  Marco  wondered  how  much  the 
elderly  diplomatist  had  actually  seen,  and  what  his  ex- 
planation of  the  aggressions  might  be  when  Cardinal 
Savelli  should  question  him  on  the  subject. 

He  had  found  Monsignor  Tomei  at  home.  Indeed,  it 
was  evident  to  Marco  that  he  was  expected,  for  the  priest's 
housekeeper,  after  peering  suspiciously  through  the  par- 
tially opened  door,  admitted  him  without  any  of  her  cus- 
tomary hesitation  and  delay. 

Monsignor  Tomei  greeted  his  visitor  obsequiously. 

1  Well,  Don  Marco,'  he  exclaimed,  as  soon  as  he  had  care- 
fully closed  the  door  of  his  sitting-room,  'you  see  how 

365 


366  DONNA   DIANA 

right  we  were.  You  have  read  this  morning's  papers,  of 
course?  It  is  very  unfortunate  that  your  brother,  Don 
Michelangelo,  should  have  met  with  this  accident.  Ma 
come  si  fa !  when  a  young  man  will  go  with  bad  com- 
panions like  that  pig  of  an  Englishman — 

Marco  Savelli  interrupted  him  angrily. 

'  It  is  your  men  who  are  pigs ! 9  he  exclaimed — '  pigs, 
and  asses  too!  Why,  in  God's  name,  did  they  not  wait 
till  Vane 'was  alone?  Instead  of  doing  this,  the  bungling 
idiots  stab  my  brother ! ' 

Monsignor  Tomei  shook  his  head. 

'  It  was  a  mistake/  he  said.  '  The  knife  should  not  have 
been  used;  it  was  not  at  all  necessary.  But  what  would 
you  have  ?  The  Englishman  hit  hard,  and  then  the  other 
— a  mere  lad — lost  his  presence  of  mind.  Luckily,  how- 
ever, Don  Michelangelo's  wound  is  not  serious.  Perhaps 
it  will  turn  out  to  be  a  good  thing,  Don  Marco.  People 
will  be  all  the  more  indignant  with  Vane  for  having  led 
your  brother  into  such  an  affair.  You  have  seen  His 
Eminence,  I  conclude  ?  How  has  he  received  this  piece  of 
news  ? ' 

'He  receives  Vane/  said  Marco  bitterly,  'so  you  may 
imagine  how  he  has  received  the  news!  We  have  accom- 
plished nothing — absolutely  nothing/  he  added,  '  if,  in- 
deed, we  have  not  lost  everything  by  the  cursed  stupidity 
of  this  fellow  whom  you  recommended  as  being  so — so 
discreet/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  considerably  taken  back. 

'His  Eminence  receives  him!  After  all  the  hints  that 
appear  in  the  newspapers  as  to  the  nature  of  the  case?' 
he  exclaimed.  '  But  it  is  incredible,  Don  Marco ! 9 

'  Incredible  or  not,  it  is  true/  replied  Marco.  '  I  have 
been  with  the  Cardinal  this  morning/  he  continued.  c  He 
is  determined  to  take  nothing  for  granted  against  Vane, 
but  to  investigate  everything  for  himself.  Moreover,  my 
uncle  San  Eocco  is  to  be  present  at  the  interview  between 
them,  and  he  supports  Vane,  of  course;  my  brother  has 
managed  to  gain  him  over  to  Vane's  cause/ 


DONNA   DIANA  367 

6  He  can  know  nothing/  said  Monsignor  Tomei. 

'  No,  but  there  was  another  witness,  whose  presence  last 
night  those  idiots  seem  to  have  overlooked/ 

'  Oh,  some  attache ! '  returned  Monsignor  Tomei  con- 
temptuously. '  Nobody  will  pay  much  attention  to  the 
evidence  of  one  of  those  empty-headed  young  gentlemen.' 

'  No  attache/  said  Marco  dryly,  '  but  an  ex-Conseiller  of 
Embassy — Monsieur  de  Villebois.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  started  uneasily. 

'  Ah ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  I  know  Monsieur  de  Villebois 
— by  name.  A  shrewd  man,  Don  Marco — a  very  shrewd 
man! ' 

6  Exactly !  And  a  man  whose  word  will  carry  more 
weight  in  Eome  than  either  mine  or  yours,  Monsignore/ 
observed  Marco  Savelli  a  little  insolently.  '  We  do  not 
know  how  much  De  Villebois  may  have  seen,  or  what  may 
be  Vane's  object  in  having  asked  that  my  uncle  should 
receive  him  at  the  same  time  as  himself.' 

'But  you  will  see  His  Eminence  again  to-day — after 
this  interview  has  taken  place  ? '  asked  Monsignor  Tomei 
anxiously. 

'  I  shall  try  to  do  so,  certainly/  replied  Marco,  '  but  that 
will  not  be  until  this  evening/  he  added. 

'It  is  some  time  since  the  Cardinal  has  sent  for  me/ 
observed  Monsignor  Tomei,  'but  there  are  matters  requir- 
ing his  immediate  attention.  I  have  not  wished  to  trouble 
him,  but  it  is  very  desirable  that  I  should  see  him.  Per- 
haps, Don  Marco,  you  will  tell  him  this  ? ' 

Marco  Savelli  glanced  at  him. 

e  I  will  tell  him/  he  said  slowly,  '  but  it  is  only  fair  that 
I  should  warn  you,  Monsignore,  that  His  Eminence  seems 
to  have  entertained  doubts  lately  as  to  the  soundness  of 
the  advice  you  have  given  him.  I  do  not  think  that  he  is 
well ;  in  any  case,  he  certainly  is  not  like  himself.  He  has 
told  me  that  under  no  circumstances  will  he  permit  his 
niece's  money  to  be  again  touched.' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  eyes  contracted,  and  his  loose  lips 
parted  in  a  disagreeable  smile. 


368  DONNA   DIANA 

'  He  will  have  to  touch  it,  whether  he  likes  to  do  so  or 
not/  he  observed,  'if  he  allows  Donna  Diana  Savelli  to 
marry/ 

'  That  is  what  I  have  been  trying  my  best  to  impress 
upon  him/  said  Marco,  '  but  he  does  not  appear  to  realize 
it.  It  is  strange/  he  continued,  '  but  my  uncle  seems  sud- 
denly to  have  developed  a  conscience/ 

'  Impulses,  my  dear  Don  Marco/  remarked  Monsignor 
Tomei — '  impulses,  not  conscience.  I  always  told  you  that 
His  Eminence  was  a  man  of  impulses.' 

Marco  Savelli  was  silent  for  a  moment. 

'  His  present  impulse  would  appear  to  be  to  extricate 
his  affairs  from  your  management/  he  said  presently. 

Monsignor  Tomei  laughed.  It  was  a  coarse,  vulgar 
laugh,  and  Marco  Savelli  winced  slightly  as  he  heard  it. 

'  It  would  not  be  easy/  he  said,  '  and — it  would  not  be 
a  wise  thing  on  His  Eminence's  part.  It  is  never  wise, 
you  know,  Don  Marco,  to  attempt  to  change  horses  while 
Tossing  a  stream ; '  and  he  looked  at  Marco  furtively. 

The  latter  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

'And  what  is  to  be  done  now?'  he  asked  impatiently. 
'  I  mean/  he  added,  as  Monsignor  Tomei  glanced  at  him 
inquiringly,  'how  can  we  induce  the  Cardinal  to  realize 
that  he  cannot  afford  to  gratify  his  impulses  and  allow 
my  cousin  Diana  to  marry  this  Englishman — or  anybody 
else,  for  that  matter?' 

Monsignor  Tomei  took  a  pinch  of  snuff. 

'  Hitherto/  he  replied,  ( we  have  striven  not  to  alarm 
His  Eminence  unduly.  If,  as  you  say,  Don  Marco,  he 
does  not  realize  his  position,  he  must  be  made  to  do  so 
— to  realize  it  to  the  full.  I  have  documents  there/  he 
added,  pointing  to  his  writing-desk,  'which  cannot  fail 
to  convince  him.  We  must,  so  to  speak,  apply  a  little  more 
pressure — just  a  little  more  pressure.  In  His  Eminence's 
own  interest,  you  understand.' 

Marco  Savelli  nodded. 

'It  is  the  only  way/  he  said.  ( After  all,  my  uncle 
must  be  protected  against  himself — against  certain  weak-. 


DONNA   DIANA  369 

nesses  of  character  which,  would  lead  him  to  ruin  himself 
and  injure  the  credit  of  our  family/ 

'  Quite  so,  Don  Marco — quite  so ! '  assented  Monsignor 
Tomei,  rubbing  his  hands  gently  together.  '  You  will  see 
that  the  Cardinal  will  yield  to  reasonable  arguments/  he 
continued,,  and  he  glanced  again  at  his  writing-desk. 

'  Nothing  can  be  done  until  I  know  what  has  passed  at 
the  interview  he  will  have  with  Vane  to-day/  said  Marco. 
'  I  will  try  to  persuade  my  uncle  to  send  for  you,  mon- 
signore/  he  added,  '  and  then  we  will  see/ 

'  Yes,  we  will  see/  interrupted  Monsignor  Tomei.  e  I 
think  I  can  convince  His  Eminence  that  he  cannot  afford 
to  dispense  with  my  services/  he  concluded,  with  a  sud- 
den scowl. 

Marco  Savelli  soon  afterwards  took  his  departure.  Not- 
withstanding Monsignor  Tomei's  assurances  that  what  had 
occurred  the  night  before  was  for  the  best,  he  was  still 
uneasy  in  his  mind,  and  convinced  that  a  grave  error  had 
been  made  both  in  attacking  Vane  while  the  latter  was  in 
Lino's  company,  and  in  having  had  recourse  to  arms. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  he  absented  himself 
from  the  Via  Giulia.  Rome  was  rapidly  becoming  empty, 
as  June  that  year  had  been  a  hotter  month  than  usual. 
Nevertheless,  Marco  was  questioned  by  several  friends  as 
to  the  truth  of  the  story  that  was  in  everybody's  mouth. 
He  contented  himself  with  declaring  that  he  knew  no 
more  than  was  in  the  newspapers,  and  expressed  his  hopes 
that  his  brother  Lino  would  now  drop  the  acquaintance  of 
so  undesirable  a  companion  as  the  Englishman,  who  was 
in  reality  to  blame  for  the  whole  affair. 

Marco  breakfasted  that  day  at  a  little  restaurant  where 
he  would  be  unlikely  to  meet  anybody  he  knew,  or  to  be 
recognised  himself.  He  had  telephoned  to  Countess  Verini, 
proposing  to  visit  her  in  the  afternoon,  but  the  latter  had 
replied  that  she  should  not  be  alone  until  dinner-time, 
after  which  hour  he  would  certainly  find  her. 

It  was  already  dusk  when  he  returned  to  the  Via  Giulia, 
and  was  informed  by  Cardinal  Savelli's  servant  that  His 


370  DONNA   DIANA 

Eminence  had  retired  to  his  own  room  for  the  night  as  he 
was  not  feeling  well,  and  had  given  orders  that  he  was  not 
to  be  disturbed. 

Marco  changed  his  clothes,  and,  after  a  hasty  dinner, 
walked  to  Countess  Verini's  residence.  Laura  Verini  was, 
as  she  had,  promised,  alone,  and  received  him  with  eager 
curiosity.  She  had  read  every  account  published  of  the 
attack  made  upon  Lino  Savelli  and  his  friend,  and  had  also 
acquired  some  further  information  that  was  not  in  the 
newspapers.  The  evening  journals  indeed  had  been  more 
reticent  than  their  contemporaries  of  the  morning.  Marco 
observed  that  in  each  of  them  the  imputations  contained 
in  the  first  accounts  were  either  omitted  or  categorically 
contradicted,  leaving  it  to  be  understood  that  the  aggres- 
sion had  been  committed  solely  with  the  object  of  extort- 
ing money  by  threats  and  violence. 

6  It  has  been  a  blunder,  Marco/  exclaimed  Countess 
Verini  as  soon  as  the  servant  who  showed  him  into  her 
drawing-room  had  left  the  room — 'an  incredible  blunder! 
What  in  the  world  was  the  use  of  turning  the  whole  thing 
into  a  vulgar  fattaccio  ? ' 

'Yes/  said  Marco  Savelli  gloomily,  'it  was  a  blunder; 
you  are  quite  right,  Laura/ 

'  Of  course  I  am  right ! 9  returned  Laura  Verini  impa- 
tiently. '  I  suppose  you  know  what  has  happened  ? '  she 
added. 

Marco  shook  his  head. 

'What?'  he  asked  eagerly. 

'  De  Villebois  and  your  uncle  San  Eocco  have  been  to 
the  Prefettura.  The  former  has  declared  that  he  was  with 
your  brother  and  Vane  the  whole  evening;  that  he  only 
left  them  in  order  to  follow  three  individuals  whom  he  sus- 
pected of  having  designs  upon  them,  one  of  whom  had 
already  been  pointed  out  to  him  by  Vane  as  a  man  who  had 
repeatedly  followed  the  latter;  that,  had  it  not  been  for 
their  tactics  in  taking  short-cuts  in  order  to  intercept 
Vane  in  a  street  which  they  knew  would  be  fairly  deserted, 
he  would  have  been  actually  present  at  their  assault,  in- 


DONNA   DIANA  371 

stead  of  arriving  a  minute  or  two  after  it.  The  Prefetto 
sent  an  official  with  your  uncle  and  De  Villebois  to  the 
Questura — hence  the  contradictions  in  the  evening  papers. 
You  have  gained  nothing,  Marco — nothing  at  all.' 

'  How  do  you  know  this,  Laura  ? ' 

'  How  do  I  know  this  ?  Why,  I  know  it.  I  can  usually 
find  out  what  I  wish  to  know.  It  was  a  ridiculous  blunder, 
I  tell  you!  Vane  should  have  been  trapped  when  he  was 
alone — when  there  was  nobody  to  confirm  his  statements. 
And  there  should  have  been  no  violence,  except  such  as 
might  have  been  necessary  to  keep  him  quiet  till  the  guar- 
dia  should  arrive.  Then  the  mud  would  have  stuck.  But 

now '  And  Countess  Verini  paused,  with  a  shrug  of 

her  shoulders. 

i  I  am  furious  with  Tomei,'  said  Marco.  ( It  is  all  his 
fault  for  not  giving  clearer  instructions.  But  have  you 
heard  anything  else  from  the  Questura,  Laura  ? 9  he  asked 
anxiously. 

'  Whether  the  police  are  likely  to  discover  the  authors 
of  last  night's  aggressione,  you  mean  ?  Yes,  Marco,  I  have 
heard  something  of  that  also.  It  appears  that  no  very 
energetic  measures  will  be  taken  to  unearth  them — so  I 
have  been  told.  The  matter  will  be  allowed  to  drop  un- 
less  ' 

' Unless  what?' 

'  Unless  your  brother  continues  to  insist  upon  a  full 
investigation  being  made.  It  appears  that  at  present  he 
is  desirous  this  should  be  done,  but  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  he  will  be  persuaded  not  to  continue  in  his  insist- 
ence.' 

Marco  made  no  reply,  but  his  face  became  several  shades 
paler  than  usual. 

'When  did  you  hear  this,  Laura?'  he  asked  presently. 

c  This  evening.  Your  uncle  and  De  Villebois  were  at  the 
Questura  about  seven  o'clock.' 

6  Ah ! '  exclaimed  Marco,  '  then  they  had  already  seen 
the  Cardinal ; '  and  he  swore  under  his  breath.  e  I  wish 
I  knew  what  had  passed  at  that  interview,'  he  continued 


372  DONNA    DIANA 

impatiently.  e  I  hoped  I  should  have  seen  my  uncle  this 
evening,  but  he  had  already  gone  to  his  room — unwell, 
his  servant  said.  I  have  seen  Tomei,  of  course,  and  we 
have  decided  to  bring  more  pressure  to  bear  in  order  to 
induce  the  Cardinal  to  abandon  these  sentimental  ideas 
about  Diana.  He  must  be  frightened,  Laura.' 

'  Yes,  but  how  do  you  propose  to  frighten  him  ? '  asked 
Countess  Verini. 

'  Oh,  Tomei  declares  he  has  the  means  of  doing  so. 
He  says  that  if  my  uncle  once  realizes  his  pecuniary 
position,  he  will  not  dare  to  resist.  I  fancy  Tomei  has 
more  hold  over  him  than  we  have  any  idea  of.  The 
worst  of  it  is  that  the  Cardinal  has  found  Tomei  out, 
and  declares  to  me  that  he  will  have  nothing  more  to 
do  with  him.' 

Countess  Verini  seemed  to  be  lost  in  her  thoughts,  and 
Marco  looked  at  her  curiously. 

'  Have  you  told  Tomei  this?'  she  asked  suddenly. 

'  Yes.  He  does  not  appear  to  take  it  very  seriously.  He 
feels  too  sure  of  his  power,  I  believe.  He  as  good  as  told 
me  that  the  Cardinal  dared  not  break  with  him.' 

'  Ah !  he  told  you  that  ? '  said  Laura  Verini  quickly. 

( I  am  going  to  do  what  I  can  to-morrow  to  persuade  the 
Cardinal  to  send  for  Tomei/  said  Marco,  'and  then  we 
can  both  bring  our  arguments  to  bear  upon  the  old  gentle- 
man. I  believe  Tomei  is  right :  if  my  uncle  is  thoroughly 
alarmed  he  will  give  way.  We  none  of  us  like  being  found 
out.' 

*  No/  observed  Countess  Verini  dryly,  ( it  is  so  very  un- 
intelligent to  be  found  out.  But,  Marco/  she  continued, 
'  if  I  were  you,  I  should  take  your  uncle's  side,  and  assist 
him  in  getting  rid  of  this  Tomei.' 

Marco  stared  .at  her  in  astonishment. 

'  Get  rid  of  Tomei ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  But,  Laura,  what 
would  be  the  use  of  that?  Besides,  I  have  gone  too  far 
with  him,  you  know.  We  are  in  the  same  boat,  and  must 
sink  or  swim  together.' 

Countess  Verini  lighted  a  cigarette. 


DONNA   DIANA  373 

( You  are  dense,  Marco ! '  she  said.  '  I  have  always  said 
it,  and  I  always  shall  say  it.  You  have  tried  Tomei,  and 
he  is  useless.  Now  you  tell  me  that  he  has  lost  his  in- 
fluence over  the  Cardinal,  so  he  is  more  useless  than  ever. 
What  is  the  good  of  having  to  do  with  useless  people? 
Listen  to  me,  caro  mw,  and  be  sensible.  Do  you  not  see 
that  by  ranging  yourself  on  your  uncle's  side  against  Tomei 
you  will  acquire  more  influence  over  the  former  than 
ever  ? ' 

'  But  Tomei  knows  too  much/  insisted  Marco. 

Countess  Verini  laughed  contemptuously. 

'  What  does  that  matter  ?  '  she  asked.  '  Tomei  is  nothing 
but  a  common  priest — of  no  very  good  repute.  If  he 
threatens  to  be  disagreeable,  Cardinal  Savelli  has  means 
at  his  disposal  to  crush  him.  And  as  regards  yourself, 
if  it  is  known  that  you  have  found  out  Tomei  in  dealing 
dishonestly  by  your  uncle's  affairs,  and  have  helped  the 
latter  to  get  out  of  his  clutches,  who  will  credit  anything 
that  the  man  may  say  against  you?  Really,  Marco,  I 
should  have  thought  that  anybody  like  yourself,  brought 
up,  as  it  were,  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  Vatican,  would 
know  how  easily  a  troublesome  priest  may  be  suppressed. 
You  have  only  to  make  Cardinal  Savelli  move  in  the  mat- 
ter, and  get  the  ear  of  the  Cardinal  Vicar.  We  could  name 
plenty  of  instances,  could  we  not,  even  within  the  Vatican 
itself,  in  which  ecclesiastics  who  have  proved  compromis- 
ing have  been  transferred  to  a  safe  obscurity  ? ? 

'But  if  he  threatens  to  make  a  scandal — to  expose  the 
Cardinal  for  tampering  with  Diana's  fortune,  and  to  ex- 
pose me  for — well,  for  last  night's  business,  for  instance,' 
objected  Marco. 

Countess  Verini  laughed. 

'My  dear  Marco,'  she  said,  'he  would  make  the  Car- 
dinal's fortune,  and  yours,  too.  The  Vatican  will  always 
pay  for  the  washing  of  its  adherents'  dirty  linen — when  the 
latter  are  people  of  consequence.  Casa  Savelli  is  not  likely 
to  suffer.' 

Marco  laughed  also. 


374  DONNA   DIANA 

'  What  do  you  advise  me  to  do,  Laura  ? '  he  asked. 

'  It  is  very  simple.  You  have  got  all  you  can  out  of 
Tomei — which  has  not  been  much  certainly — and  now  you 
can  get  rid  of  him.  Profess  to  act  in  your  uncle's  inter- 
ests— in  the  interests  of  a  deceived  and  injured  man  whose 
confidence  Monsignor  Tomei  has  abused,  and  of  whose  lack 
of  business  capacity  he  has  taken  advantage.  You  will  not 
find  it  difficult  to  assume  a  high  moral  tone,  I  know. 
Your  training  as  a  seminarist  will  always  help  you.' 

Marco's  face  flushed. 

'  You  need  not  be  sarcastic/  he  said  irritably. 

'But  I  am  not  in  the  least  sarcastic/  retorted  Laura 
Verini  with  a  little  smile.  'You  can  do  it  admirably. 
I  always  said  you  should  have  been  a  priest — a  society 
priest,  I  mean— via,  Marco ! '  she  added.  '  I  am  only 
laughing  at  you — you  look  so  serious !  What  do  you  think 
of  my  scheme?'  she  continued  suddenly. 

'  I  think  it  is  clever,  like  most  of  your  schemes/  replied 
Marco;  'but  I  am  not  certain  of  my  ground.  I  do  not 
know  what  hold  Tomei  may  possess  over  the  Cardinal. 
They  might  both  turn  against  me/  he  added  suspiciously. 

Laura  Verini  darted  a  keen  glance  at  him. 

6 1  have  told  you/  she  replied,  '  that  you  need  not  be 
afraid  of  scandal,  for  if  Tomei  threatens  it,  he  will  find 
that  he  will  not  be  allowed  to  carry  out  his  threats.' 

e  It  is  worth  thinking  about,  certainly/  said  Marco.  '  In 
the  meantime,  Laura/  he  continued,  'thanks  to  Tomei's 
blundering,  we  are  further  off  than  ever  from  getting  this 
money.  And  you — I  know  you  are  in  want  of  it.' 

'  Oh,  as  to  that/  answered  Laura  Yerini  carelessly,  '  I 
am  always  in  want  of  it.  But  it  doesn't  signify,  Marco. 
I  have  pacified  most  of  my  tradespeople.  They  will 
wait  now  till  the  autumn — and,  by  the  autumn,  who 
knows ' 

They  talked  on  for  some  time,  and  then  Countess  Yerini, 
always  mindful  of  the  proprieties,  bade  Marco  good-night. 
At  a  moment  when  the  name  of  Savelli  was  in  everybody's 
mouth,  she  felt  that  it  behoved  her  to  be  cautious,  for, 


DONNA   DIANA  375' 

notwithstanding  the  advice  she  had  just  given  to  Marco, 
she  was  by  no  means  sure  how  either  her  lover  or  Cardinal 
Savelli  were  going  to  emerge  without  a  public  scandal 
from  the  position  into  which  they  had  drifted. 

And  whatever  might  happen  to  others,  the  Countess 
Verini  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  being  compro- 
mised herself. 


CHAPTEE  XXX 

THE  following  morning,  while  Marco  Savelli  was  still  in 
his  room,  he  received  a  message  from  the  Cardinal  saying 
that  the  latter  wished  to  see  him  at  nine  o'clock. 

Marco  had  passed  a  restless  night.  He  was  feverishly 
anxious  to  know  the  result  of  his  uncle's  interview  with 
Vane,  and  especially  the  part  Monsieur  de  Villebois  had 
played  in  it.  He  had  pondered  a  great  deal,  too,  over 
Countess  Verini's  suggestion  that  he  should  cut  himself 
adrift  from  Monsignor  Tomei.  It  was  a  suggestion  which 
had  at  first  startled  him  on  account  of  its  boldness,  but 
the  more  he  thought  over  it,  the  more  convinced  he  became 
that  Laura's  advice  was  sound.  It  would  be  necessary, 
however,  to  proceed  with  caution.  This  determination  on 
the  Cardinal's  part  to  free  himself  from  Monsignor  To- 
mei's  influence  might  only  be  another  impulse — an  im- 
pulse which  would  probably  be  at  once  stifled  when  Car- 
dinal Savelli  should  finally  realize  that  he  was  completely 
in  the  latter's  power,  both  financially  and,  as  Marco  had 
for  some  time  been  convinced,  morally. 

Nine  o'clock  had  scarcely  struck  when  Marco  Savelli 
entered  his  uncle's  study. 

A  glance  at  the  Cardinal  showed  him  that  the  latter  was 
in  an  extremely  nervous  state,  which  he  was  evidently  try- 
ing to  control.  After  greeting  his  nephew,  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli, whose  hands,  Marco  noticed,  were  trembling  in  a  way 
that  was  quite  unusual  with  them,  went  through  a  pretence 
of  arranging  the  papers  upon  the  writing-table  at  which  he 
was  sitting.  Once  or  twice  he  seemed  as  though  about  to 
speak;  then  he  checked  himself  as  if  reluctant  or  afraid 
to  do  so. 

'You  had  your  interview  with  Vane  yesterday  after- 
noon, I  conclude,'  said  Marco  at  length. 

376 


DONNA    DIANA  377 

'  Yes,  yes,  Marco/  replied  Cardinal  Savelli  hurriedly. 
'  It  is  about  this  I  wish  to  speak  to  you.  You  are  wrong, 
the  newspapers  were  wrong,  as  to  there  having  been  any- 
thing discreditable  either  to  Mr.  Vane  or  to  Lino  in  their 
adventure  of  Thursday  night.  It  is  quite  the  reverse,  in- 
deed— quite  the  reverse.  An  abominable  thing ! '  And  the 
Cardinal  paused,  looking  at  Marco  eagerly. 

'  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it/  the  latter  observed  dryly. 
'  But  perhaps,  Uncle  Camillo/  he  added,  i  you  will  explain 
your  reasons  for  being  so  quickly  convinced  of  Vane's  in- 
nocence. I  must  tell  you  that  those  who  know  the  life  he 
leads  in  Rome,  and  the  kind  of  society  he  frequents,  are 
not  the  least  surprised  at  his  having  got  himself  into  this 
disagreeable  position.  Tomei ' 

'  Tomei ! '  exclaimed  the  Cardinal  indignantly.  '  Do  not 
quote  Tomei  to  me,  Marco!  The  man  is  a  mascalzone,  I 
tell  you — a  scoundrel !  If  it  were  not  for  my  own  weak- 
ness and  folly  in  having  hitherto  allowed  myself  to  be 
more  or  less  in  his  power,  I  would  expose  him — yes,  I 
would  expose  him  for  what  he  is — an  imbroglione  and  an 
assassin!  But  even  as  it  is,  I  will  get  him  sent  where 
he  can  do  no  more  mischief  and  where  he  will  find  nobody 
but  peasants  with  whom  to  play  the  usurer.' 

Marco  raised  his  eyebrows. 

( I  do  not  understand/  he  said  quietly.  £  Unless  you  will 
explain  a  little  more  fully,  I  cannot  follow  you.' 

'  Of  course  not,  Marco/  replied  Cardinal  Savelli.  '  How 
should  you  understand?  You,  like  myself,  have  been  de- 
ceived by  Tomei's  animosity  against  Mr.  Vane.  You  would 
not  believe,  for  instance,  that  Tomei  was  the  instigator 
of  the  attack  made  upon  him  two  nights  ago — that ' 

Marco  Savelli  started  violently  and  became  very  pale. 

6  What  do  you  'mean  ? '  he  exclaimed. 

'  No/  continued  the  Cardinal  hurriedly.  '  You  would 
certainly  not  believe  it;  but  it  is  true,  Marco.  Tomei 
planned  the  outrage.  It  was  a  cowardly — a  devilish  plan. 
He  was  determined  that  I  should  entrust  him  with  the 
manipulation  of  Diana's  capital,  and  Vane  was  in  the  way. 


378  DONNA   DIANA 

Tomei  was  determined  to  prevent  Diana  from  marrying 
and  Vane  wished  to  marry  her.  So  he  conceived  the  dia- 
bolical scheme  of  placing  Mr.  Vane  in  an  equivocal  situa- 
tion whereby  his  character  might  suffer,  in  the  hopes  that 
we  should  indignantly  refuse  to  entertain  his  proposal  for 
Diana/ 

Marco  turned  suddenly  to  the  window,  so  that  his  uncle 
could  not  see  his  face. 

'  It  is  impossible ! '  he  exclaimed  hoarsely — '  impossible, 
Uncle  Camillo !  Vane  has  no  doubt  invented  the  story  in 
order  to  explain  away  the  affair  of  two  nights  ago/ 

'Vane  did  not  tell  me  the  story/  returned  Cardinal 
Savelli  abruptly. 

'  Then  who  did  ? '  Marco  asked  hastily. 

*  Monsieur  de  Villebois/  replied  the  Cardinal.  '  He  rec- 
ognised one  of  the  individuals — two  men  and  a  woman — 
who  were  apparently  watching  Vane  outside  the  Porta 
San  Giovanni  that  night,  for  the  same  man  whom  the  lat- 
ter had  already  pointed  out  to  him  as  being  constantly 
spying  upon  him.  De  Villebois  followed  these  individu- 
als and  overheard  their  conversation.  He  heard  this  man 
say  to  his  companions  that  if  any  mistake  were  made, 
and  the  Englishman  were  not  hopelessly  compromised, 
they  would  not  get  their  money  from  Monsignor  Tomei/ 

Marco  was  silent.  It  was  fortunate,  perhaps,  that  the 
Cardinal  could  not  see  the  expression  of  mingled  fear  and 
anger  on  his  nephew's  countenance.  Cardinal  Savelli 
recommenced  sorting  his  papers  nervously.  For  a  minute 
or  two  neither  of  them  spoke.  Suddenly  the  Louis  Qua- 
torze  clock  above  the  door  struck  the  quarter  after  nine, 
and  the  Cardinal  looked  up  quickly. 

'I  have  sent  for  Tomei/  he  said;  '.he  will  be  here  at 
half-past  nine.  I  wish  you  to  stay  with  me,  Marco/  he 
added.  '  I  will  not  be  alone  with  that  man/ 

Marco  nodded. 

'  Yes/  he  answered, '  I  will  stay.  But  you  have  not  told 
me  how  matters  stand  between  you  and  Vane — regarding 
Diana,  I  mean/ 


DONNA   DIANA  379 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  him  and  hesitated. 

'You  have  a  bad  opinion  of  Vane,  I  know/  he  said, 
'but,  as  I  said  before,  you  have  been  deceived  by  Tomei. 
To  my  mind  he  has  completely  proved  his  case — or,  rather, 
it  has  been  proved  for  him  by  the  testimony  of  an  un- 
prejudiced witness  such  as  Monsieur  de  Villebois.' 

6  And  so/  interposed  Marco, e  you  will  allow  him  to  marry 
Diana?' 

'  If  Diana  chooses  to  marry  him — yes/  replied  Cardinal 
Savelli,  looking  steadily  at  his  nephew.  '  The  child  shall 
decide  for  herself/  he  added,  with  a  slight  sigh. 

'  And  her  dot?  '  asked  Marco  abruptly.  '  Vane  will  want 
to  see  that/  he  added. 

Cardinal  Savelli  directed  a  keen  glance  at  his  nephew. 

*  That  is  another  instance  in  which  we  have  misjudged 
this  Englishman/  he  said.  '  He  is  rich.  Diana's  dot  is 
nothing  to  him.  He  wants  Diana  herself,  and  would  take 
her  even  if  she  had  no  dot/ 

6  Ah ! '  exclaimed  Marco.  '  He  has  told  you  so,  I  suppose/ 

'Yes/  returned  the  Cardinal  quietly,  'he  has  told  me 
so.  This/  he  continued,  'is  what  I  mean  to  tell  Mon- 
signor  Tomei  when  he  comes — this,  and  a  few  other  things. 
I  shall  be  curious  to  see  what  line  he  will  take/ 

'  So  shall  I/  muttered  his  nephew  under  his  breath. 

'  What  do  you  say,  Marco  ? '  inquired  Cardinal  Savelli 
somewhat  sharply. 

e  You  have  quite  decided,  then,  to  dispense  with  Tomer's 
services  for  the  future?'  Marco  asked. 

Cardinal  Savelli  got  up  from  his  chair  and  began  to  walk 
up  and  down  the  room. 

'  I  have  no  need  of  his  services/  he  said  irritably,  '  and 
I  wish  to  God  I  had  never  had  anything  to  do  with  him. 
He  thinks  that  he  is  indispensable  to  me — that  I  dare  not 
get  rid  of  him.  But  he  shall  see — he  shall  see,  Marco. 
And  you — you  will  support  me,  will  you  not?' 

He  stopped  for  a  moment  and  looked  earnestly  at  his 
nephew,  and  Marco  fancied  that  he  detected  a  slight  ex- 
pression of  suspicion  in  his  gaze. 


380  DONNA   DIANA 

'  You  see,  Marco/  he  continued  quickly,  '  I  have  been 
very  much  to  blame  in  allowing  myself  to  be  guided  by  a 
man  like  Tomei.  To  be  sure,  I  did  not  suspect  him  of  be- 
ing the  scoundrel  he  is.  But  the  man  is  a  peasant — a 
semi-educated  peasant — and  you  know  what  that  may 
mean.  We  have  too  many  of  them — in  higher  positions 
than  Monsignor  Tomei.  Tomei  is  convinced  that  he  has 
me  in  his  power.  He  knows  that  I  have  used  some  of 
Diana's  money  for  you — and — and  for  other  purposes. 
But  he  is  mistaken,  Marco — I  am  going  to  show  him 
that  he  is  mistaken,  and  that  I  know  him  now  for  what 
he  is.' 

'  But  are  you  sure  it  is  wise  to  quarrel  with  him  ? ' 
hazarded  Marco.  '  Have  you  thought  well,  Uncle  Camillo  ?  ' 

'  Madonna  Santissima !  Have  I  thought  well ! '  ejacu- 
lated Cardinal  Savelli;  and  then  he  turned  to  Marco 
quickly.  'You  seem  to  be  afraid  of  Tomei,'  he  said  sus- 
piciously. '  I  will  tell  you  the  truth,  Marco/  he  added 
suddenly.  '  I  have  thought  sometimes  that  Tomei  was 
using  you  as  an  unconscious  tool  in  order  to  gain  his 
own  ends  with  me.  Mind,  I  say  unconscious,  for,  of 
course,  I  know  that  you  would  have  been  the  first  to  warn 
me  against  him,  had  you  had  the  least  idea  that  he  was — 
what  he  is.  I  do  not  blame  you,  Marco,  for,  after  all, 
you  have  been  deceived  as  well  as  myself.  But  now  the 
time  has  come  when  Tomei  must  learn  that  I  decline  to 
have  anything  more  to  do  with  him.' 

e  And  you  feel  that  you  can  tell  him  this  ? '  said  Marco. 
'Kemember/  he  continued,  'he  might  be  a  dangerous  en- 
emy. Your  Eminence  cannot  afford  that  a  word  should 
be  said  regarding  your  administration  of  Diana's  fortune. 
And  if  it  were  known  that  money  had  been  employed  for 
my  benefit  out  of  that  fortune,  I  should  be  supposed  to 
have  been  acting  in  collusion  with  Monsignor  Tomei.' 

Marco's  concluding  words  had  an  instant  effect.  The 
suspicious  expression  that  Cardinal  Savelli's  face  had 
worn  a  moment  before  suddenly  vanished,  and  he  looked 
at  his  favourite  nephew  with  a  glance  of  deep  affection. 


DONNA   DIANA  381 

'  I  understand/  he  said  gently.  '  You  are  afraid  for  me, 
because  you  think  this  mascalzone  may  try  to  damage  me 
in  revenge  for  his  dismissal.  But  you  need  not  be  afraid, 
Marco — neither  for  me  nor  for  yourself.  Believe  me, 
Tomei  may  do  his  worst;  he  will  not  be  able  to  injure 
either  of  us  very  seriously.' 

Marco  was  silent.  He  felt  completely  mystified.  His 
uncle  must  surely  have  some  very  good  reasons  for  speak- 
ing as  confidently  as  he  did.  Perhaps  Monsignor  Tomei 
had  exaggerated  the  extent  of  the  hold  he  pretended  to 
possess  over  the  Cardinal.  But  what  if  Tomei,  in  his 
anger  at  finding  himself  dismissed  from  the  Cardinal's 
confidence,  should  reveal  everything  and  declare  that  he 
had  acted  throughout  with  the  full  cognizance  and  at  the 
suggestion  of  Don  Marco  Savelli? 

Marco  looked  at  the  clock,  and  saw  that  it  was  on  the 
point  of  striking  the  half-hour.  In  a  minute  or  two  he 
would  have  to  decide  upon  the  course  he  should  pursue. 
Perhaps  Laura  Verini  had  been  right,  and  his  wiser  policy 
would  be  to  range  himself  upon  his  uncle's  side.  It  was 
strange  that  the  latter  should  have  sought  his  help  and 
support  with  an  insistence  which  was  almost  pathetic. 
That  the  Cardinal  should  have  done  so  seemed  to  prove 
the  soundness  of  Laura's  advice. 

And  if  Tomei  threatened  reprisals?  Bah!  he  might 
threaten  them.  Probably  he  would  threaten  them,  but,  as 
Laura  had  pointed  out,  Tomei  could  be  suppressed.  Evi- 
dently the  Cardinal  had  no  fear  of  him,  so  why  should  heA 
Marco,  be  afraid? 

His  reflections  were  interrupted, by  the  entry  of  a  serv- 
ant, who  informed  Cardinal  Savelli  that  Monsignor  Tomei 
was  waiting  to  be  received. 

Cardinal  Savelli  cast  a  rapid  glance  at  his  nephew. 

'  Show  Monsignor  Tomei  in  here,'  he  said  to  the  man 
briefly,  f  and  admit  nobody  else  this  morning.' 

Marco  Savelli  looked  at  him,  and  wondered  at  the  sud- 
den alteration  in  his  expression  and  manner. 

Cardinal  Savelli  had  drawn  himself  up  in  his  chair,  and 


382  DONNA    DIANA' 

his  whole  person  seemed  to  have  assumed  a  certain  severe 
dignity.  As  Marco  looked  at  him,  he  experienced  a  sensa- 
tion of  confidence  and  relief.  This,  at  any  rate,  was  not 
the  attitude  of  a  man  about  to  receive  a  person  of  whom  he 
stood  in  any  fear.  Tomei  must  have  exaggerated,  and, 
Marco  thought  with  a  sudden  anger,  he  had  no  doubt  done 
so  in  order  purposely  to  deceive  him  as  to  the  power  he 
professed  to  have  acquired  over  the  Cardinal. 

Monsignor  Tomei  entered  the  room  with  his  most  busi- 
nesslike air,  and  bowed  to  Cardinal  Savelli  and  Marco  as 
he  wished  them  buon  giorno.  He  evinced  no  surprise  at 
seeing  Marco,  being,  indeed,  convinced  it  was  owing  to 
the  latter  that  he  had  been  summoned  so  speedily. 

Cardinal  Savelli  acknowledged  his  salutation  by  a  cold 
inclination  of  the  head.  He  did  not,  as  was  his  custom, 
rise  from  his  chair,  but  remained  seated  at  his  writing- 
table,  whence  he  looked  keenly  and  steadily  at  his  visitor. 

Monsignor  Tomei  advanced  towards  him,  and  then  he 
paused  in  some  embarrassment. 

Cardinal  Savelli  made  no  motion  to  him  to  sit  down, 
and,  consequently,  etiquette  obliged  him  to  remain 
standing. 

'Your  Eminence  wished  to  see  me?'  he  said,  as  the 
Cardinal  did  not  break  the  silence. 

'Yes,  I  wished  to  see  you,  monsignore,'  answered  Car- 
dinal Savelli  quietly, '  but  I  do  not  think  that  I  shall  detain 
you  long.' 

e  I  was  about  to  write  to  ask  for  an  audience  of  your 
Eminence  when  your  message  reached  me,'  continued  Mon- 
signor Tomei.  '  I  have  several  matters  which  need  your 
attention.' 

'They  will  wait,'  interrupted  the  Cardinal  coldly.  'I 
also  have  matters  to  discuss  requiring  your  attention,  mon- 
signore — and  your  explanation.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  glanced  at  Marco  Savelli. 

'Pardon  me,  Eminence,'  he  said,  'but  the  business  to 
which  I  allude  will  not  wait.  It  has  waited  too  long — for 
settlement/ 


DONNA   DIANA  383 

There  was  a  covert  insolence  in  his  tone  that  did  not 
escape  Marco's  quick  ears.  It  did  not  escape  the  Cardinal 
either,  for  the  latter  drew  himself  up  and  gave  Monsignor 
Tomei  a  look  before  which  the  latter's  eyes  involuntarily 
dropped. 

'  Of  course/  he  continued  hastily,  '  your  Eminence's 
business  with  me  must  take  precedence.  May  I  ask  what 
these  matters  are  that  require  my  attention  and  explana- 
tion?' 

'  It  is  scarcely  necessary  for  you  to  do  so/  returned 
Cardinal  Savelli,  and  his  eyes  gleamed  with  a  sudden  flash 
of  anger.  '  You  read  the  newspapers,  I  conclude/  he  added 
sarcastically. 

Monsignor  Tomei  made  an  apologetic  gesture. 

'  Ah ! '  he  exclaimed,  '  I  begin  to  understand  what  your 
Eminence  refers  to.  Of  course,  I  read  the  account  of  the 
disgraceful  affair  in  the  Via  Urbana  the  other  night.  I 
am  not  surprised.  I  have  heard  things  concerning  that 
English  gentleman  which  fully  account  for  his  being 
mixed  up  in  such  a  matter.  But  I  regret  that  Don  Michel- 
angelo Savelli  should  so  nearly  have  fallen  a  victim  to  his 
companion's  evil  practices,  though  I  must  congratulate 
your  Eminence  and  Don  Marco  on  his  having  escaped 
with  what  is,  I  understand,  a  comparatively  trifling 
wound/ 

'  Have  you  paid  his  aggressors  yet,  monsignore  ? ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  spoke  slowly  and  deliberately,  but  each 
word  was  delivered  like  a  thrust  of  a  rapier. 

Monsignor  Tomei  started,  and  his  face  became  livid. 

( I — I  do  not  understand,  Eminence/  he  gasped. 

The  Cardinal  laughed  abruptly. 

e  Ah !  you  do  not  understand !  It  seems,  then,  that  it 
is  I,  and  not  you,  who  must  explain.  I  ask  you  if  you  have 
paid  your  accomplices,  monsignore — the  scoundrels  whom 
you  hired  to  bring  false  accusations  against  Mr.  Vane  in 
order  to  compromise  him  in  my  eyes,  and  to  oblige  me  to 
refuse  my  consent  to  any  question  of  marriage  between  him 
and  my  niece,  Donna  Diana  Savelli.' 


384  DONNA    DIANA 

Monsignor  Tomei  attempted  to  speak,  but  the  words  died 
away  on  his  tongue  into  an  inarticulate  murmur. 

*  Shall  I  explain  to  you  your  object  for  doing  this  ? ' 
continued  Cardinal  Savelli  mercilessly.  '  You  did  it  be- 
cause you  were  determined  that  I  should  entrust  the  re- 
mainder of  my  niece's  capital  to  your  administration — 
the  portion  that  you  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  persuading 
me  to  mortgage,  or  to  use  in  order  to  procure  myself  some 
temporary  relief  from  the  embarrassments  which  you  have 
gradually  created  for  me — embarrassments  you  have  care- 
fully built  up  on  the  foundations  of  my  own  folly  and 
carelessness.  You  feared  Mr.  Vane,  monsignore,  because 
you  knew  that,  should  he  marry  my  niece,  your  schemes 
must  fail.  And  so  you  sought  to  poison  my  mind  against 
him  with  your  slanderous  hints  and  suggestions,  as  you 
tried  to  poison  the  mind  of  my  nephew,  Don  Marco.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  paused.  He  had  become  more  excited 
while  he  was  speaking,  and  his  face  was  suffused  by  a  deep 
crimson  flush. 

At  the  mention  of  Marco's  name,  Monsignor  Tomei 
looked  up  quickly. 

'  Don  Marco  will  tell  your  Eminence  that  these  insinua- 
tions against  me  are  false,'  he  exclaimed  eagerly.  '  They 
have  been  suggested  to  your  Eminence  by  some  person 
who  is  determined  to  destroy  your  confidence  in  me.' 

( Insinuations ! '  repeated  the  Cardinal.  '  You  are  mis- 
taken. I  make  no  insinuations  against  you;  I  state  facts.' 

"  Don  Marco,'  said  Monsignor  Tomei,  turning  to  him 
quickly,  '  I  call  upon  you  to  protect  me  against  these  ac- 
cusations. You  know  that  I  have  been  loyal  to  His  Emi- 
nence's interests — and  to  your  own ' 

'  I  do  not  see  how  my  interests  are  concerned,  mon- 
signore,' interrupted  Marco  coldly.  e  My  uncle,'  he  added, 
e  derives  his  information  as  to  what  occurred  in  the  Via 
Urbana  on  the  night  of  San  Giovanni,  not  from  the  news- 
papers, but  from  an  eye-witness.  It  is  for  you  to  protect 
yourself,  if  you  can  do  so.  My  uncle  himself,  of  course, 
can  be  the  only  judge  as  to  the  manner  in  which  you  have 


DONNA   DIANA  385 

acted  in  regard  to  his  own  private  affairs,  and  as  to  the 
advantage  or  disadvantage  he  may  have  gained  through 
your  counsels/ 

(  Yes,  Marco/  interposed  Cardinal  Savelli,  '  you  are  quite 
right.  I  am  the  judge  of  how  Monsignor  Tomei  has  ful- 
filled the  trust  I  was  foolish  enough  to  repose  in  him. 
But  I  will  be  no  unjust  judge/  he  added,  and  for  the 
first  time  since  Monsignor  Tomei  had  entered  the  room 
his  voice  assumed  a  more  gentle  tone.  (  When  *  I  requested 
Monsignor  Tomei  to  assist  me  with  his  advice/  he  con- 
tinued, ( I  had  already  yielded  to  temptation — I  had  al- 
ready borrowed  from  my  niece's  fortune.  I  do  not  forget 
that,  and  although  the  fact  does  not  justify  your  subse- 
quent conduct,  monsignore,  it  at  least  in  some  way  ex- 
cuses it.  You  thought  that  because  I  had  been  dishonest 
I  should  be  so  to  the  end,  and  you  made  sure  I  should  fall 
an  easy  victim  to  your  schemes.  You  have  been  mistaken, 
monsignore.  I  have  lost  the  right  to  say  any  more  to 
you  than  this.  But,  at  the  same  time,  you  will  under- 
stand that  I  do  not  any  longer  require  your  services,  and 
that  I  am  about  to  place  my  affairs  in  the  hands  of  others. 
As  to  your  connivance  in  the  attempted  outrage  upon  Mr, 
Vane,  in  which  my  nephew,  Don  Michelangelo  Savelli,  so 
nearly  lost  his  life,  you  will  settle  that  matter  with  your 
own  conscience,  and  with  your  accomplices.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  hesitated  for  a  moment,  as  the  Qar- 
dinal  paused  and  looked  at  him  as  though  to  intimate  that 
he  had  nothing  more  to  say. 

Then  the  rage  and  mortification  which  had  been  boiling 
within  him  burst  forth  in  a  torrent  of  words. 

'Your  Eminence  is  right/  he  cried  angrily.  'I  will 
settle  that  matter  with  my  accomplices  9 — and  he  darted 
a  sinister  look  at  Marco  Savelli — 'but  first  of  all  I  will 
give  you  some  of  the  explanations  you  have  asked  for. 
You  will  be  a  just  judge,  you  tell  me,  so  you  will  hear  what 
I  have  to  say — oh  yes,  you  will  hear  it,  because  you  must 
hear  it — because  I,  Tomei,  will  make  you  hear  it.  You 
think  that  you  can  dismiss  me — that  you  can  throw  me 


386  DONNA   DIANA 

aside  like  an  empty  wine-flask — but  you  are  mistaken, 
per  Dio!  Every  franc  that  you  possess  is  in  my  power, 
Eminence,  and  you  have  already  fraudulently — fraudu- 
lently, do  you  understand? — mortgaged  the  greater  part 
of  your  ward's  capital.  A  word  from  me,  and  those  who 
hold  these  mortgages  will  foreclose,  and  then — well,  your 
Eminence  may  guess  the  result.  You  will  be  not  only 
ruined,  but  dishonoured.  Details  will  be  made  public 
which  you  can  scarcely  wish  to  be  known.  What,  for  in- 
stance, will  be  said  when  it  comes  out  that  Cardinal 
Savelli  stole — yes,  stole — a  hundred  thousand  lire  from 
the  reserve  capital  of  a  credit  bank  of  which  he  was  the 
honoured  patron  and  director?  Will  the  Holy  Father  be 
pleased  to  hear  this  fact,  and  to  know  that  yet  another 
financial  scandal  has  burst  so  near  to  the  threshold  of 
the  Vatican?  And  what  will  the  Koman  world  say  when 
it  knows  that  His  Eminence  Cardinal  Savelli,  a  Eoman 
prince,  because  he  found  himself  unable  to  repay  to  the 
bank  the  sum  he  had  embezzled,  and  because  he  feared 
detection,  took  the  money  from  his  niece's  fortune  ? ' 

Marco  Savelli  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation  of  surprise 
and  consternation.  He  looked  at  his  uncle,  expecting  every 
moment  to  hear  from  him  a  contemptuous  denial  of  Mon- 
signor  Tomei's  allegation. 

But  no  denial  came.  Cardinal  Savelli  continued  to  look 
steadily  at  the  angry  man  who  was  standing  before  him, 
accompanying  his  stream  of  words  with  violent  gesticu- 
lations. 

Suddenly  Monsignor  Tomei  broke  off  with  a  harsh, 
strident  laugh. 

'  What  has  your  Eminence  to  say  ? '  he  asked,  as  the  Car- 
dinal sat  gazing  quietly  and  almost 'indifferently  at  him. 
c  You  wanted  money,'  he  added,  e  and  I  found  you  money. 
It  was  no  affair  of  mine  if  the  security  you  offered  be- 
longed not  to  you,  but  to  Donna  Diana  Savelli,  since  you, 
as  her  guardian,  could  invest  her  capital  in  any  way  that 
seemed  good  to  you.  As  soon  as  I  realized  the  truth,  I  did 
my  best  to  save  your  Eminence  from  the  consequences  of 


DONNA   DIANA  387 

your  acts  by  endeavouring  to  make  arrangements  whereby, 
in  the  event  of  your  niece  taking  the  veil,  her  money  might 
still  remain  in  your  hands  for  some  years,  during  which 
time  you  might  have  paid  off  your  debts  to  her.' 

Cardinal  Savelli  looked  at  the  clock. 

'  Have  you  done,  monsignore  ? '  he  asked  coldly. 

Monsignore  Tomei  turned  to  Marco  Savelli. 

'  Once  again,  Don  Marco/  he  said,  '  I  call  upon  you  to 
reason  with  His  Eminence — to  explain  to  him  that,  as  I 
said  before,  I  have  acted  in  his  interests  and  in  yours/ 

He  had  scarcely  spoken  the  last  words  than  the  Cardi- 
nal's voice  rang  out  imperiously. 

'  Be  so  good  as  to  leave  my  nephew's  name  out  of  the 
discussion,'  he  said.  '  You  have  not,  and  never  have  had, 
any  authority  to  act  in  Don  Marco  Savelli's  interests,  and 
you  have  no  possible  right  to  appeal  to  him.' 

A  malevolent  scowl  overspread  Monsignor  Tomei's 
features,  and  his  eyes  seemed  to  recede  into  his  head. 
Without  appearing  to  notice  the  Cardinal's  remark,  he 
addressed  Marco  again: 

'  I  must  ask  you,'  he  repeated,  ( to  explain  to  His  Emi- 
nence Cardinal  Savelli  that  I  have  acted  not  only  in  his 
interests,  but  in  your  own.' 

Marco  looked  at  him,  and  saw  that  he  was  trembling  all 
over  with  suppressed  rage.  Then  he  looked  at  the  Cardinal. 
His  uncle  appeared  to  be  cold  and  impassive,  almost  as 
though  he  had  no  personal  concern  in  what  was  going  on 
around  him.  Every  now  and  then  Marco  saw  that  he 
played  nervously  with  an  ivory  paper-knife  which  lay  on 
the  writing-table.  He  noticed,  too,  that  the  deep-red  flush 
had  never  passed  from  his  face,  and  that  occasionally  his 
mouth  twitched  almost  convulsively. 

Still,  there  were  no  signs  of  hesitation  or  moral  fear  on 
his'  uncle's  countenance,  and  it  was  evident  that  he  had 
no  intention  of  giving  way  before  Monsignor  Tomei's  men- 
aces of  exposure  and  scandal. 

Marco  Savelli  turned  to  the  latter  and  looked  at  him 
coldly. 


388  DONNA   DIANA 

'  You  have  made  a  mistake,  monsignore/  he  said,  with  an 
insolent  smile.  '  As  you  have  heard  just  now  from  my 
uncle,  you  have  never  had  any  authority  to  act  on  my  be- 
half, and  you  have  no  possible  right  to  appeal  to  me  to 
intercede  for  you  with  His  Eminence.  I  am  here/  he 
added,  '  to  support  my  uncle,  and  to  aid  him  in  putting  an 
end  to  a  system  of  management  of  his  affairs  which  ap- 
pears to  have  been  very  disastrous.  The  latter  part  of  the 
question,  however,  has  nothing  to  do  with  me  personally; 
but  I  must  decline  to  associate  myself  in  any  way  with  the 
instigator  of  a  dastardly  outrage  that  nearly  cost  my  brother 
his  life.' 

Monsignor  Tomei's  face  turned  livid  again,  and  he 
struck  his  head  with  his  clenched  fist. 

'  Basta,  Don  Marco  ! '  he  exclaimed.  '  I  have  had  your 
answer,  and  now — now  I  will  conclude  my  explanations  to 
His  Eminence/ 

6  There  is  no  need  for  any  further  explanations/  said  the 
Cardinal,  with  a  slight  wave  of  his  hand.  '  My  nephew 
Marco  and  I  understand  one  another  perfectly,  and  what  he 
has  just  said  to  you  meets  with  my  full  approval — my  full 
approval/  he  repeated,  glancing  at  Marco  affectionately. 
'  Wait ! '  he  exclaimed,  holding  up  his  hand,  as  Monsignor 
Tomei  was  about  to  speak.  '  Before  you  leave  us,  mon- 
signore,  I  have  one  more  thing  to  say  to  you;  afterwards, 
I  will  not  detain  you  any  longer.  Yesterday  I  received 
Mr.  Vane,  the  Englishman  whose  character,  and  perhaps 
whose  life,  you  have  endeavoured  to  destroy.  He  asked 
me  to  give  him  my  permission  to  marry  Donna  Diana 
Savelli.  I  have  given  it,  subject  to  her  consent.  You 
will  now  perhaps  understand  that  no  further  part  of  my 
niece's  fortune  is  likely  to  find  its  way  into  the  pockets 
of  others.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  appeared  scarcely  to  heed  him.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Marco  Savelli  with  a  savage  glare  of 
hatred  and  contempt. 

Suddenly  he  turned  towards  Cardinal  Savelli. 

( Listen,  Eminence ! '  he  exclaimed,  and  there  was  an 


DONNA   DIANA  389 

angry  hiss  in  his  voice  as  he  spoke.  '  I,  too,  have  some 
more  things  to  tell  you,  and  you  will  hear  them  because 
you  are  a  just  judge ; '  and  he  laughed  derisively.  '  You 
approve  of  what  your  nephew  has  just  told  me,  and  you 
and  Don  Marco  Savelli — ha!  ha!  ha! — you  understand 
each  other  perfectly!  Well,  this  is  all  as  it  should  be — 
this  love  and  confidence  between  an  ecclesiastic  like  your 
Eminence,  who  may  not  have  acknowledged  children  of  his 
own,  and  a  dutiful  nephew.  As  you  are  in  such  perfect 
accord  with  Don  Marco,  it  will  be  no  news  to  you  that  the 
hundred  thousand  lire  you  gave  him  out  of  your  niece's 
fortune  in  order  to  save  his  credit  was  expended,  not  to 
defray  unlucky  speculations  on  the  Bourse,  but  to  pay  the 
debts  of  his  mistress,  the  Countess  Verini,  a  lady  whom 
you  doubtless  know.  And  again,  you  will  be  aware  that 
Don  Marco  Savelli  is  in  further  need  of  money  for  the 
same  interesting  object,  and  that  he — he,  or  the  Countess 
Verini — is  the  true  originator  of  the  scheme  by  which 
Donna  Diana  was  to  enter  a  convent,  the  authorities  of 
which  should  consent  to  wait  for  the  entire  payment  of 
her  dot/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  laughed  scornfully. 

'  Basta,'  monsignore  ! '  he  interrupted  contemptuously. 
f  Having  failed  in  your  attempt  to  blacken  Mr.  Vane's  char- 
acter, it  is  of  no  use  to  attempt  to  do  the  same  thing  by 
my  nephew.  No,  Marco ! '  he  exclaimed,  as  the  latter 
made  a  sudden  movement,  as  though  he  were  about  to  throw 
himself  upon  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  Let  him  speak.  We  will 
see  to  what  extent  he  will  seek  to  excuse  himself  by  calum- 
niating others.' 

Marco  Savelli  turned  aside  with  a  suppressed  oath,  and 
Monsignor  Tomei  drew  nearer  to  the  table  at  which  the 
Cardinal  was  sitting. 

(  Your  Eminence  is  just — very  just ! '  he  said  with  a 
calmness  all  the  more  ominous  because  so  evidently  forced 
and  unnatural.  '  I  have  still  some  explanations  to  make, 
and  I  trust  that  your  Eminence  will  regard  them  as  suf- 
ficient. You  have  accused  me  of  being  the  instigator  of 


390  DONNA   DIANA 

the  attack  made  upon  Mr.  Vane,  but,  of  course,  your  Em- 
inence knows  that  Don  Marco  arranged  that  little  affair. 
It  was  natural,  perhaps.  Your  nephew  wanted  his  share 
of  Donna  Diana  SavellFs  fortune,  and  Mr.  Vane  was  in 
the  way ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  suddenly  rose  to  his  feet  and  pointed  to 
the  door. 

'  Go ! 9  he  exclaimed — '  go,  or  I  will  have  the  servants 
put  you  out  by  force !  Do  you  think  that  you  can  frighten 
me?  You  may  keep  your  threats  and  your  calumnies  for 
clients  of  your  own  order,  monsignore.  Go,  I  say !  What 
you  are  owed  you  shall  be  paid,  but  do  not  dare  to  show 
your  face  here  again/ 

Monsignor  Tomei  did  not  move  from  where  he  was 
standing.  Suddenly,  with  a  rapid  motion,  he  put  his  hand 
into  the  pockets  of  his  soutane. 

6  No/  he  said,  with  a  short  laugh,  as  both  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli and  Marco  drew  back  apprehensively,  ( I  am  not 
armed,  except  with  papers.  I  am  a  business  man,  Em- 
inence— a  business  man.  Perhaps  you  will  do  me  the 
favour  of  looking  over  these  documents/  he  added. 

He  extended  at  the  same  moment  two  papers  from  his 
pocket,  one  of  which  was  a  letter  and  the  other  a  folded 
sheet  of  quarto  size,  and  held  them  out  towards  the  Car- 
dinal. 

With  a  sudden  rush  Marco  Savelli  sprang  towards  him, 
and  attempted  to  wrench  them  out  of  his  hand. 

'  They  are  forgeries ! '  he  exclaimed.  ( Do  you  hear, 
uncle  ?  I  swear  to  you  that  they  are  forgeries ! ' 

Monsignor  Tomei,  with  a  rapid  movement,  held  the 
papers  behind  his  back. 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Cardinal. 

'Your  Eminence  is  determined  to  be  a  just  judge/  he 
said,  with  an  evil  smile,  '  and,  as  such,  I  trust  these  docu- 
ments to  your  honour.' 

Then,  bending  over  the  writing-table,  he  spread  them  out 
before  Cardinal  Savelli. 

But  Cardinal  Savelli  was  looking  at  his  nephew,  and  as 


DONJSTA   DIANA  391 

he  looked  an  expression  of  doubt  came  into  his  eyes,  to  be 
succeeded  by  an  expression  of  terrible  suspicion. 

'  They  are  forgeries  ! '  Marco  cried  again. 

He  was  very  pale,  and  his  black  eyes  roamed  restlessly 
round  the  room,  as  though  seeking  to  fix  themselves  any- 
where but  on  the  Cardinal's  face.  Monsignor  Tomei,  stand- 
ing at  Cardinal  Savelli's  side,  watched  him  with  a  mali- 
cious smile. 

'In  that  letter/  he  said  quietly,  'your  Eminence  will 
find  some  further  explanations.  It  is  a  letter  of  very 
recent  date,  as  you  may  notice;  indeed,  it  is  dated  from 
the  Scacchi  Club  scarcely  a  week  ago.  In  it  Don  Marco 
Savelli  urges  me  to  lose  no  time  in  bringing  about  Mr. 
Vane's  disgrace,  as  he  has  learned  from  your  Eminence 
that  you  intended  to  receive  Mr.  Vane  on  St.  John's  Day. 
Don  Marco  adds  that  such  an  interview  would  probably  be 
fatal  to  his  plans,  and  that  it  must  never  take  place. 
I  must  beg  your  Eminence  to  read  the  letter  for  your- 
self/ 

Cardinal  Savelli  took  the  paper  from  him  almost  me- 
chanically. His  hands  trembled  violently  as  he  held  it  up 
to  his  eyes  and  began  to  read  it. 

Suddenly  a  low  cry  broke  from  him,  a  cry  that  sounded 
like  the  moan  of  some  creature  in  mortal  pain. 

( You,  Marco — you  ! '  he  exclaimed. 

<  The  second  paper,'  interrupted  Monsignor  Tomei.  ( Will 
your  Eminence  listen  to  the  contents  of  the  second  paper  ? 
It  is  merely  a  formality — a  written  promise  by  which  Don 
Marco  Savelli  binds  himself  to  pay  me  a  sum  of  two 
thousand  five  hundred  francs  on  my  obtaining  from  you 
twenty-five  thousand  francs  on  his  behalf  before  the  month 
of  September  next.  If  your  Eminence  desires  any  further 
explanations  concerning  this  second  document,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  the  Countess  Verini  could  supply  them.  The 
first  paper,  I  think,  explains  itself,  and 9 

'A  just  judge,'  muttered  Cardinal  Savelli — <a  just 
judge  and  an  unjust  steward.' 

And   then  he   laughed — the   same,   strange,   mirthless 


392  DONNA   DIANA 

laugh  that  had  shocked  and  startled  Prince  San  Rocco  and 
Edmund  Vane  the  day  before.  Suddenly  he  rose  from  his 
chair  and  came  towards  the  spot  where  Marco  was  stand- 
ing. 

The  latter  tried  to  speak,  but  only  the  word  '  Forgery ! ' 
came  in  a  hoarse  whisper  from  his  colourless  lips. 

Cardinal  Savelli  stopped  a  few  feet  away  from  him. 

'  No,'  he  exclaimed,  '  it  is  too  late  to  lie  now.  Those 
papers  are  no  forgeries,  and  you — you '  He  stam- 
mered for  a  moment  and  then  recovered  himself.  '  God 
has  punished  me/  he  said  dully.  '  It  was  for  you  I  first 
took  the  money,  for  I  loved  you,  Marco,  as  though  you  had 
been  my  own  son.  Could  you  not  have  trusted  me  ?  Was 
I  not  worthier  of  your  trust  than  that  man,  whom  you  knew 
was  driving  me  into  committing  fresh  acts  of  dishonesty? 
And  now,  when  at  last  I  was  beginning  to  see  a  way  out  of 
my  difficulties — when  at  last,  thanks  to  a  stranger's  gen- 
erosity, I  could  hope  to  rid  myself  for  ever  of  that  man 

who  has  been  my  curse — now,  I  say '  Cardinal  Savelli 

staggered  suddenly  and  drew  his  hands  across  his  eyes. 
'  Marco  ! '  he  said  faintly. 

But  Marco  Savelli  scarcely  heeded  him.  He  ground  his 
teeth  and  cursed  himself  for  a  short-sighted  fool.  He  had 
been  a  fool,  indeed,  for  he  had  forgotten  the  letter  he  had 
written  to  Monsignor  Tomei,  urging  him  to  direct  his  ac- 
complices to  execute  their  commission  without  further  de- 
lay. The  signed  promise  to  pay  Monsignor  Tomei  a  hun- 
dred pounds  should  the  latter  be  successful  in  persuading 
the  Cardinal  to  advance  the  sum  Laura  Verini  had  asked 
him  for  had  not  escaped  his  memory.  He  had  already 
settled  in  his  mind  how  he  would  account  for  the  existence 
of  this  paper,  should  Tomei  produce  it.  It  would  not  be 
difficult  to  persuade  the  Cardinal  that  he  had  deliberately 
laid  a  trap  for  Monsignor  Tomei,  in  order  to  discover  how 
far  the  latter  was  open  to  bribery.  Of  course,  it  was  Vane 
who  had  placed  the  Cardinal  in  such  a  position  with  regard 
to  Diana's  dot  that  he  could  afford  to  shake  off  Monsignor 
Tomei,  and  this  accounted  for  his  uncle's  anxiety  that  Vane 


DONNA   DIANA  393 

should  be  able  to  clear  himself  from  the  accusations  made 
against  him  of  leading  a  dissolute  life.  The  Cardinal's  last 
words  had  revealed  also  to  Monsignor  Tomei  what  was 
passing  in  his  mind,  and  explained  his  indifference  to  the 
threats  of  exposure  by  which  the  latter  had  hoped  to  terrify 
him. 

( It  is  fortunate  for  your  Eminence/  Monsignor  Tomei 
said  with  a  sneer,  ( that  Don  Marco  did  not  succeed  in  pre- 
venting Mr.  Vane  from  calling  upon  you  yesterday.' 

The  words  seemed  to  rouse  Cardinal  Savelli  to  sudden 
fury.  A  moment  before  his  voice  and  manner  had  been 
those  of  a  man  cruelly  wounded  in  the  tenderest  feelings; 
but  Monsignor  Tomei  had  hardly  ceased  speaking  when  a 
wave  of  uncontrollable  anger  and  contempt  seemed  to 
sweep  over  him. 

'  Yes/  he  exclaimed,  '  it  is  fortunate  for  me  that  my 
nephew  Marco  is  a  murderer  only  in  intent.  Is  it  not 
enough  to  be  a  coward  and  a  liar  ?  Ah ! '  he  continued, 
turning  to  Marco,  'you  do  not  know  how  I  have  fought 
against  the  horrible  suspicion  that  you — my  nephew — were 
acting  in  collusion  with  that  man ! '  and  he  pointed  with 
trembling  fingers  to  Monsignor  Tomei.  '  I  could  see  that 
Vane  suspected  it,  and  De  Villebois,  but  they  were  more 
merciful  than  you — they  tried  to  keep  the  truth — the  dis- 
grace from  me.' 

(  The  papers  are  forgeries — forgeries,  I  tell  you ! '  mut- 
tered Marco  Savelli  sullenly.  *  That  scoundrel  of  a  priest 
has  concocted  these  lies  to  ruin  me ! ' 

Cardinal  Savelli  made  a  step  towards  him.  He  raised 
his  arm,  and  almost  it  seemed  as  though  he  were  about 
to  strike  his  nephew. 

6  Liar ! '  he  said  hoarsely — '  liar  and  coward !  From  that 
man — that  usurer  who  calls  himself  a  priest — I  expect 
nothing.  He  is  a  peasant.  But  you — you  are  a  Savelli, 
and — a  Savelli,  I  say — my  brother's  son ! ' 

His  voice  rose  until  it  became  almost  a  shriek.  Sud- 
denly he  struggled  for  breath.  A  few  inarticulate  words, 
confused  and  senseless,  fell  from  his  lips,  and  he  raised 


394  DONNA   DIANA 

his  hands  to  his  throat  and  tore  convulsively  at  the  collar 
underneath  his  soutane. 

The  next  moment  he  tottered,  and  then,  with  a  choking 
sob.  Cardinal  Savelli  fell  to  the  ground,  unconscious  and 
breathing  heavily. 

Marco  Savelli  uttered  an  exclamation  of  alarm  and  hor- 
ror. Throwing  himself  on  his  knees  beside  his  uncle, 
he  endeavoured  to  raise  him,  and  to  loosen  the  collar  at 
which  the  Cardinal's  hands  were  still  feebly  clutching. 

'  Go ! '  he  exclaimed  hurriedly  to  Monsignor  Tomei,  '  get 
help — the  servants!  You  have  had  your  revenge.' 

Monsignor  Tomei  looked  at  him. 

( Yes,  Don  Marco,'  he  said,  '  I  have  had  my  revenge — 
although  I  am  only  a  peasant.' 

And  then  he  turned  away  and  left  the  room. 

In  the  anticamera  a  servant  was  dozing  over  a  news- 
paper, and  Monsignor  Tomei  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 

(  His  Eminence  is  unwell/  he  said  to  the  man.  '  I  think 
Don  Marco  Savelli  requires  assistance/ 

And  then,  taking  his  hat,  and  a  dusty  black  alpaca  um- 
brella he  used  as  a  protection  against  the  sun,  Monsignor 
Tomei  let  himself  out  of  the  Cardinal's  apartment  and 
hurried  down  the  cool  staircase  into  the  glare  and  bustle 
of  the  streets. 


CHAPTEE   XXXI 

THE  season  of  vintage  had  begun.  On  the  slopes  of  hill- 
sides clad  in  green  and  gold,  groups  of  contadini  were  busy 
pulling  the  bunches  of  purple  Cesanese  or  of  white  Moscato 
grapes. 

Strings  of  mule-carts  filled  with  the  spoils  of  the  vine- 
yard wended  their  way  to  the  tinelli,  or  buildings  in  which 
the  grapes  are  pressed,  and  the  close  September  air  re- 
sounded with  the  songs  and  laughter  of  the  men  and  women 
accompanying  them. 

The  fierce  heat  of  summer  had  driven  Pan  into  the  re- 
cesses of  the  woodlands,  and  to-day  Bacchus  reigned  over 
the  fields,  merry  and  wanton  as  in  the  olden  days  before 
the  coming  of  the  Galilean. 

Diana  Savelli,  quite  restored  to  health  after  six  weeks 
convalescence  spent  at  Viareggio,  had  returned  with  Prin- 
cess San  JRocco  to  Magnano,  where  a  family  party  had 
assembled. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  the  sultry  heat  of  the  mid- 
September  day  had  passed,  and  a  cool  breeze  stirred  the 
leaves  of  a  group  of  venerable  chestnut-trees  beneath  which 
the  older  members  of  the  party  were  seated,  while  the 
others,  and  among  them  Diana,  were  playing  lawn-tennis 
in  a  desultory  fashion  close  by. 

Life  at  Magnano  was  simple — indeed,  almost  primitive 
— when  compared  with  country-house  life  in  England  or 
other  northern  countries.  The  house  itself  was  a  rambling 
structure  containing  an  enormous  number  of  rooms,  a 
certain  proportion  of  which  were  furnished  more  or  less 
scantily,  while  the  majority  were  either  empty  or  served  as 
storehouses,  granaries,  or  in  any  other  capacity  for  which 
they  might  be  temporarily  needed.  At  Magnano  the  San 

395 


396  DONNA   DIANA 

Kocco  family  was  in  villeggiatura,  a  synonymous  term — at 
least,  according  to  foreign  notions — with  hard  beds,  small 
washing-basins,  tough  meat,  and  general,  though  healthy, 
discomfort. 

Seated  in  a  wicker  arm-chair,  and  following  the  game 
of  lawn-tennis  with  evident  interest,  was  Cardinal  Savelli. 
He  had  rallied  in  a  wonderful  way  from  his  apoplectic 
seizure,  which  for  the  space  of  a  few  days  had  brought  him 
to  death's  door.  Indeed,  the  doctors  had  declared  that 
his  determination  to  live  had  largely  contributed  to  his 
recovery,  which,  for  the  time  being,  was  almost  complete. 

Princess  San  Eocco  every  now  and  then  rose  from  her 
chair  to  satisfy  herself  that  her  brother  was  not  feeling 
chilly,  and  occasionally  she  would  suggest  calling  to  Lino 
Savelli,  who  was  Diana's  partner  in  the  game  of  lawn- 
tennis,  to  assist  in  moving  him  into  the  sun,  for  the  Car- 
dinal was  only  gradually  recovering  the  use  of  his  right 
side,  which  had  remained  partially  paralyzed  after  his 
seizure. 

But  Cardinal  Savelli  had  refused  to  allow  the  game  to 
be  interrupted  on  his  account.  His  attention  seemed  to 
be  absorbed  in  watching  the  movements  of  his  niece  Diana. 
Occasionally,  when  a  merry  laugh  from  the  latter  fell 
upon  his  ears,  he  would  smile  gently,  and  if  by  any  chance 
she  hit  a  ball  over  the  net,  he  would  call  to  her,  'Brava, 
Diana — brava ! ' 

Cardinal  Savelli,  at  the  earnest  wish  of  his  brother-in- 
law  and  sister,  had  consented  to  come  for  some  weeks  to 
Magnano  so  soon  as  he  should  be  able  to  move  from  Rome ; 
and  the  doctors  had  strongly  recommended  the  change  to 
the  quiet  life  and  fresher  air  of  the  lovely  country  sur- 
rounding Viterbo,  in  the  midst  of  which  Magnano  was 
situated. 

Much  had  happened  since  the  morning  when  the  Car- 
dinal, worn  out  by  remorse  for  the  past  and  anxiety  for 
the  future,  had  fallen  to  the  ground  in  his  study,  stricken 
down  by  the  discovery  of  his  favourite  nephew's  heartless 
treachery.  The  intelligence  of  his  sudden  seizure  had 


DONNA   DIANA  397 

no  sooner  reached  Palazzo  San  Eocco  than  both  the  Prince 
and  Princess  had  hurried  to  his  bedside.  The,  former 
already  more  than  suspected  the  cause  of  his  brother-in- 
law's  state,  and  his  suspicions  had  been  confirmed  not 
only  by  Edmund  Vane,  who  felt  that  under  such  circum- 
stances any  further  attempt  to  conceal  the  whole  truth 
from  the  Cardinal's  family  would  be  folly,  but  also  by  his 
nephew,  Lino  Savelli. 

A  family  council  had  been  held  at  Palazzo  San  Rocco. 
at  which,  however,  Marco  was  not  present.  Nothing  would 
induce  Prince  San  Rocco  to  receive  the  latter,  nor  would 
he  allow  his  name  to  be  mentioned. 

Vane  could  not  at  the  time  understand  how  the  Prince 
knew  what  had  passed  between  the  Cardinal  and  Marco 
Savelli.  He  subsequently  learned  that  two  days  after  his 
brother-in-law's  seizure  Prince  San  Rocco  had  received 
through  the  post  a  registered  packet,  despatched  to  him 
anonymously,  containing  the  documents  Monsignor  Tomei 
had  shown  to  the  Cardinal. 

It  was  at  this  family  council,  held  while  Cardinal  Sa- 
velli, though  he  had  recovered  consciousness,  was  still  lying 
in  a  critical  condition,  that  Edmund  Vane  had  been  rep- 
resented by  his  friend  Lino  Savelli.  He  had  begged  the 
latter  formally  to  repeat  what  he  had  already  said  to  the 
Cardinal  in  Prince  San  Rocco's  presence,  and  to  explain 
to  the  Prince  and  Princess  that,  should  he  become  Donna 
Diana's  affianced  husband,  he  would,  of  course,  do  all  in 
his  power  to  act  with  the  family  in  such  a  way  as  to  pre- 
vent any  breath  of  scandal  from  touching  either  Cardinal 
Savelli  or  Marco. 

Since  the  Cardinal  had  been  at  Magnano  both  his  health 
and  his  spirits  had  greatly  improved.  Not  a  little  of  this 
improvement  was  due  both  to  Diana  Savelli  and  to  her 
cousin  Lino,  who,  completely  recovered  from  his  wound, 
was  spending  a  few  weeks  of  the  autumn  with  his  relations. 
It  appeared  as  though  neither  could  do  enough  to  show 
their  sympathy  with  Cardinal  Savelli,  and  Lino  especially 
was  unremitting  in  his  attention  to  him. 


398  DONNA   DIANA 

By  degrees  the  expression  of  mental  pain  and  anxiety 
which  the  Cardinal's  face  had  worn  for  so  many  months 
almost  disappeared,  and  only  when  left  alone  with  his  own 
thought  would  it  return,  to  vanish  again  when  Diana  or 
Lino  approached  him.  Marco's  name  was  never  mentioned 
between  Lino  and  his  uncle,  and  this  fact  sufficed  to  make 
the  Cardinal  aware  that  Lino  knew  all  that  had  occurred. 

Cardinal  Savelli  could  not  guess  that  his  nephew  was 
reproaching  himself  bitterly  for  having  suspected  him  of 
encouraging  Diana  to  embrace  a  religious  life  in  order  to 
further  his  own  interests,  and  still  less  could  he  know 
that  for  some  days  Lino  had  permitted  himself  to  enter- 
tain a  horrible  doubt  lest  his  uncle  should  have  connived 
at  the  attempt  to  ruin  Vane's  chances  of  marrying  her. 
But  now  the  clouds  that  had  gathered  so  ominously  round 
Cardinal  Savelli  seemed  to  be  gradually  but  surely  break- 
ing up  and  drifting  away.  He  felt  that  he  was  surrounded 
by  affection  and  sympathy,  all  the  more  grateful  because 
proceeding  from  quarters  in  which  he  had  never  cared  to 
look  for  either. 

One  thing,  and  one  thing  only,  he  hoped  for,  and  he 
prayed  for  it  with  all  the  fervour  at  his  command.  He 
must  live — live  to  replace  at  all  events  a  considerable  por- 
tion of  the  money  he  had  abstracted  from  his  niece's 
capital.  Surely  God,  who  had  been  so  merciful  to  him, 
would  grant  his  prayer!  Each  time  his  eyes  rested  on 
Diana  he  thought  of  this,  his  great  desire,  and  prayed 
humbly,  fervently,  that  God  would  give  him  time — only 
a  few  years — before  calling  him  to  an  account  of  his 
stewardship. 

In  the  meantime,  that  evening  was  to  bring  Edmund 
Vane  to  Magnano  for  the  formal  signing  of  his  marriage 
contract,  and  Cardinal  Savelli  looked  forward  to  giving  to 
him  and  Diana  his  blessing  on  their  approaching  union. 

During  their  stay  at  Viareggio,  Princess  San  Eocco  had 
acquainted  Diana  with  Vane's  request,  and  her  niece's 
manner  had  left  her  in  no  doubt  as  to  the  latter's  senti- 
ments regarding  him. 


DONNA   DIANA  399 

The  necessary  preliminaries  having  been  duly  arranged, 
it  had  been  finally  settled  that  the  fidanzamenifo  should 
take  place  at  Magnano  in  a  quiet  and  informal  manner  in 
the  presence  of  near  relatives  and  one  or  two  old  friends. 
True  to  his  promise,  Edmund  Vane  had  absolutely  de- 
clined to  benefit  by  any  part  of  Diana's  fortune.  He  had, 
on  the  contrary,  made  ample  settlements  upon  her  in  the 
event  of  his  death. 

Presently  the  tennis-party  broke  up,  and  the  players 
came  to  repose  themselves  under  the  chestnut-trees  where 
the  Cardinal  and  Princess  San  Rocco  were  sitting,  while 
the  Prince  and  an  elderly  cousin  were  playing  a  game 
of  dominoes  on  a  stone  table  near  by. 

'  Diana  is  becoming  quite  a  good  player,'  said  Cardinal 
Savelli,  smiling — '  really  quite  a  good  player.  Not  that 
I  am  any  judge,  but ' 

'  She  played  atrociously,  Uncle  Camillo,'  interrupted 
Lino,  laughing ;  ( but  then,  poor  Diana !  she  had  an  excuse. 
She  was  always  listening  for  the  whistle  of  the  train  from 
Rome,  you  know.  One  cannot  play  lawn-tennis  and  watch 
for  trains  at  the  same  time.' 

And  that  evening,  about  seven  o'clock,  Edmund  Vane 
arrived. 

He  was  accompanied  by  a  cousin,  the  head  of  another 
branch  of  his  family,  and  by  Monsieur  de  Villebois,  who 
had  returned  to  Rome  in  September  on  purpose  to  be 
present  at  an  event  in  the  bringing  about  of  which  he 
had  played  so  important  a  part. 

The  first  twenty-four  hours  of  Edmund's  visit  were 
somewhat  tantalizing,  for  he  could  never  succeed  in  seeing 
Diana  alone. 

( I  call  it  damned  nonsense — all  this  etiquette ! '  he 
grumbled  to  Lino  Savelli  at  the  end  of  his  first  day  at 
Magnano,  when  the  Prince  had  taken  him  to  see  the  grapes 
being  pressed  and  the  Princess  had  shown  him  her  bantams. 
'  In  my  country,'  he  added,  '  we  manage  things  differently. 
People  have  a  habit  of  suddenly  remembering  that  they 
have  letters  to  write,  or  that  they  have  left  their  pocket- 


400  DONNA   DIANA 

handkerchiefs  upstairs,  when  an  engaged  couple  are  in  the 
house.  But  here  in  Italy  you  have  other  ideas,  I  know. 
It  doesn't  say  much  for  your  Italian  morals,  Lino.' 

Lino  Savelli  laughed. 

( You  may  be  thankful  that  Frau  von  Raben  is  no  longer 
here/  he  observed.  '  She  would  have  guarded  Diana  like 
a  watch-dog.' 

'  What  has  become  of  Frau  von  Raben  ? '  asked  Vane. 

'  She  is  studying  the  relations  of  sex  in  her  native  land,' 
replied  Lino  dryly.  '  My  uncle  San  Rocco  is  very  amusing 
about  her — he  declares  the  cows  give  more  milk  since  she 
has  gone.  But,  Eddie,'  he  added,  'don't  mention  her 
name  to  the  Cardinal;  we  never  talk  of  her  before  him, 
or  of ' 

'  Of  course  not ! '  exclaimed  Edmund  hastily.  f  Tell  me, 
Lino,'  he  continued,  (  shall  I  ever  have  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  Donna  Diana  alone  ? ' 

'  Leave  it  to  me,'  said  Lino.  '  I  will  explain  to  my  aunt 
that,  being  a  foreigner  and  a  barbarian,  Diana  will  be  quite 
safe  with  you.' 

And  the  following  afternoon  the  whole  party,  with  the 
exception  of  Cardinal  Savelli,  went  to  a  tenuta  on  the  estate 
to  see  the  newly  gathered  grapes  being  trodden  in  the 
primitive  fashion  that  still  obtains  in  the  wine-growing 
district  around  Rome.  Mule-carts,  laden  with  baskets  of 
the  purple  bunches,  discharged  their  contents  into  the  great 
press  to  be  trampled  by  eager,  excited  peasants  whose  nether 
limbs  were  stained  dark  by  the  spurting  juice.  And  then, 
when  they  had  watched  the  process  for  a  little  time,  Lino 
Savelli  proposed  that  they  should  walk  back  through  the 
vineyards  which  had  not  yet  been  despoiled  of  their 
fruit,  and  eat  some  of  the  sweet  muscat  grapes  for  which 
Magnano  was  famous. 

And  here,  amidst  the  branching  vines  with  their  autumn 
foliage  of  green  and  ruddy  gold,  with  only  the  cicale  shrill- 
ing in  the  grassy  banks  above  to  hear  him,  Edmund  asked 
Diana  Savelli  all  the  old,  old  questions,  and  the  cicale 
heard  the  answers. 


DONNA   DIANA  401 

Cardinal  Savelli  was  sitting  in  his  favourite  spot  under 
the  chestnut-trees  when  the  party  returned  f  ronf  their  ex- 
pedition, and  Edmund  and  Diana,  who  had  walked  on 
ahead  of  the  rest,  found  him  there. 

The  Cardinal  looked  at  them  inquiringly  with  a  gentle 
smile,  and  Vane,  taking  Diana's  hand,  led  her  up  to  him 
without  a  word.  Cardinal  Savelli  bent  forward,  and,  as 
they  were  about  to  kiss  his  ring,  restrained  them  with  an 
affectionate  gesture.  Then  he  made  the  sign  of  the  Cross 
over  them. 

(  God  bless  you — you  and  those  who  come  after  you ! ' 
he  said  softly;  and  he  leaned  back  with  a  little  sigh. 
'  Thank  God ! '  he  exclaimed,  and  his  lips  moved  in  prayer, 
the  prayer  that  he  had  repeated  so  often,  so  earnestly,  con- 
fident that  God,  who  had  shown  such  mercy,  must  surely 
listen  to  it. 

That  evening  there  was  a  merry  dinner-party,  to  which 
the  Princess  had  invited  a  few  of  their  neighbours,  and 
afterwards  the  contract  of  marriage  between  Edmund  Vane 
and  Diana  Savelli  was  duly  signed.  Cardinal  Savelli  pro- 
posed the  healths  of  the  sposi,  and  at  one  moment  his 
voice  faltered  with  emotion  as  he  did  so.  It  was  only  for 
a  moment,  however,  and  then  he  regained  his  natural  com- 
posure. 

In  the  last  days  of  October  Edmund  Vane  and  Diana 
Savelli  were  married.  The  Syndic  of  Eome  conducted  the 
civil  ceremony  at  the  Capitol,  and  the  religious  marriage 
was  performed  by  Cardinal  Savelli  in  his  private  chapel. 

After  its  conclusion  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  accom- 
panied by  those  who  had  been  present  in  the  chapel,  drove 
down  to  St.  Peter's,  in  accordance  with  the  time-honoured 
Roman  custom,  and  there  remained  for  a  few  minutes  in 
prayer  before  the  altar  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  again 
at  the  shrine  of  the  Apostles. 

As  they  left  the  church,  Edmund  and  Diana  paused  on 
the  top  of  the  wide  steps  leading  into  the  piazza.  The 
mellow  October  sun  was  streaming  down  from  the  blue 


402  DONNA    DIANA 

sky  above  them.  It  flooded  the  vast  space  in  golden  light, 
and  sparkled  upon  the  great  fountains  flinging  their  waters 
into  the  warm,  balmy  air. 

'  You  will  never  regret  your  choice,  Diana  ? '  Vane  asked 
of  her  softly. 

Diana  looked  at  him  and  smiled.  And  the  sunlight 
seemed  to  catch  her  smile  and  toss  it  back  to  him. 


THE  END 


COUNT  HANNIBAL 

A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  COURT  OF  FRANCE 

BY  STANLEY  J.  WEYMAN 

AUTHOR  OF   "A  GENTLEMAN   OF   FRANCE,"    "UNDER  THE   RED   ROBE,' 
"THE   CASTLE   INN,"    ETC.,    ETC. 


With  Frontispiece.    Crown  8vo,  cloth,  ornamental,  $1.5O 

"  It  is  very  seldom  that  one  runs  across  a  historical  novel  the  plot  of  which  is 
so  ably  sustained,  the  characters  so  strongly  drawn,  the  local  color  or  atmosphere 
so  satisfactory.  '  Count  Hannibal '  is  the  strongest  and  most  interest- 

ing novel  as  yet  written  by  this  popular  author."— BOSTON  TIMES. 

"  Stanley  J.  Weyman  has  had  hundreds  of  imitators  since  he  wrote  '  A  Gen- 
tleman of  France,'  but  no  man  has  yet  surpassed  him.  I  know  of  no  book  in 
the  whole  list  of  popular  favorites  that  holds  one's  interest  more  intensely  or 
more  continuously  than  l  Count  Hannibal '  does.  And  what  an  insistent,  throat- 


gripping  interest  it  is ! 

What  is  the  use  of  hopin_ 
romances  so  long  as  the  public  is  fed  on  books  like  this  ?    Such  a  story  has  zest 


rhat  is  the  use  of  hoping  for    a  decadence    of   the  craze    for  historical 


for  the  most  jaded  palate  ;  nay,  it  can  hold  the  interest  even  of  a  book  reviewer. 
From  the  first  page  to  the  last  there  is  not  a  moment  when  one's  desire  to  finish 
the  book  weakens.  Along  with  the  ordinary  interest  of  curiosity  there  goes  that 
of  a  delightful  and  unique  love  story  involving  no  little  skill  in  character  deline- 
ation."—RECORD- HERALD,  CHICAGO. 

' '  A  spirited,  tersely  interesting  and  most  vivid  story  of  scenes  and  incidents 
and  portrayals  of  various  characters  that  lived  and  fought  and  bled  in  the  lurid 
days  that  saw  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew.  .  .  .  This  is  Mr.  Weyman's 
most  graphic  and  realistic  novel."— PICAYUNE,  NEW  ORLEANS. 

"  Mr.  Weyman  has  surpassed  himself  in  'Count  Hannibal.'  The  scene  of 
the  story  is  laid  chiefly  in  Paris,  at  the  time  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew. .  .  .  We  are  made  to  grasp  the  soul  of  Count  Hannibal  and  are  tacitly 
asked  to  let  its  envelope  take  care  of  itself.  .  .  .  Never  has  Mr.  Weyman 
achieved,  in  fact,  a  higher  degree  of  verisimilitude.  Count  Hannibal  may  leave 
us  breathless  with  his  despotic  methods,  but  he  is  not  abnormal ;  he  is  one  of  the 
Frenchmen  who  shared  the  temper  which  made  the  St.  Bartholomew,  and  he  is  in- 
tensely human  too  .  .  .  how  the  tangle  of  events  in  which  he  and  half  a 
dozen  others  are  involved  is  straightened  out  we  refrain  from  disclosing.  The 
reader  who  once  takes  up  this  book  will  want  to  find  all  this  out  for  himself  " 

—NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE. 

"A  story  in  Mr.  Weyman's  best  vein,  with  the  crimson  horror  of  St.  Bar- 
tholomew as  an  historical  setting.  '  Count  Hannibal  '  is  a  worthy  companion  of 
•  A  Gentleman  of  France '  and  *  The  Red  Cockade,'  and  Mr.  Weyman's  hand  is 
as  cunning  as  ever  in  fashioning  a  romance  which  will  send  a  thrill  through  the 
most  jaded  reader  and  keep  even  a  reviewer  from  his  bed." 

—BOOKMAN,  LONDON. 

"  The  book  is  rapid,  is  absorbing,  and  the  hero  is  a  distinctly  interesting 
character  in  himself,  apart  from  his  deeds  of  daring."— ATHENAEUM. 

"  Mr.  Stanley  Weyman's  '  Count  Hannibal '  is  fully  worthy  of  his  great  repu- 
tation— the  style  is  brilliant,  easy  and  clear ;  the  invention  of  subject  and  the 
turns  of  fortune  in  the  story  surprising  ;  above  all,  the  subtle  painting  of  a  man 
and  a  woman's  heart  is  done  with  inexhaustible  knowledge." — GUARDIAN. 

"  A  picturesque  and  vigorous  romance.  The  narrative  will  be  followed  with 
breathless  interest."— TIMES,  LONDON. 


LONGMANS,  GBEEN,  &  00,,  91-93  HTTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YOBK. 


SOPHIA 


BY  STANLEY  J.  WEYMAN 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  GENTLEMAN  OF  FRANCE,"  "UNDER  THE  R*2D  ROBE,"  ETC. 


With  12  Illustrations  by  C.  Hammond.    Crown  8vo,  cloth, 
ornamental,  $1.50. 


"  Mr.  Weyman's  new  romance  illustrates  the  types  and  manners  of  fashion- 
able London  society  in  the  year  1742.  In  everything  that  means  the  revival  of 
an  historical  atmosphere  it  is  skilful,  and,  on  the  whole,  just.  The  characters 
also  are  well  realized.  .  .  .  '  Sophia  '  is  a  decidedly  interesting  novel.  .  .  . 
The  tale  moves  swiftly,  hurrying  on  from  the  town  to  the  heath,  from  hatred  to 
love,  from  imprisonment  on  bread  and  water  to  diamonds  .  .  .  and  a  dozen 
other  things.  Sophia,  the  heroine,  is  a  bundle  of  girlish  foolishness  and  charms, 
*  Sophia,'  the  book,  is  a  bundle  of  more  or  less  extraordinary  episodes  woven 
into  a  story  in  the  most  beguiling  manner."— NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE,  April,  1900. 

"It  is  a  good,  lively,  melodramatic  story  of  love  and  adventure  .  .  .  it  is 
safe  to  say  that  nobody  who  reads  the  lively  episode  in  the  first  chapter  will 
leave  the  book  unfinished,  because  there  is  not  a  moment's  break  in  the  swift 
and  dramatic  narrative  until  the  last  page.  .  .  .  The  dramatic  sequence  is 
nearly  faultless."— TRIBUNE,  CHICAGO. 

"  Sophia,  with  her  mistakes,  her  adventures,  and  her  final  surrender;  Sophia 
moving  among  the  eighteenth  century  world  of  fashion  at  Vauxhall ;  Sophia  fly- 
ing through  the  country  roads,  pursued  by  an  adventurer,  and  Sophia  captured 
by  her  husband,  transport  one  so  far  from  this  work-a-day  life  that  the  reader 
comes  back  surprised  to  find  that  this  prosaic  world  is  still  here  after  that  too- 
brief  excursion  into  the  realm  of  fancy." 

—NEW  YORK  COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER. 

"The  gem  of  the  book  is  its  description  of  the  long  coach-ride  made  by 
Sophia  to  Sir  Hervey's  home  in  Sussex,  the  attempt  made  by  highwaymen  to 
rob  her,  and  her  adventures  at  the  paved  ford  and  in  the  house  made  silent  by 
smallpox,  where  she  took  refuge.  This  section  of  the  story  is  almost  as  breath- 
less as  Smollett.  ...  In  the  general  firmness  of  touch,  and  sureness  of 
historic  portrayal,  the  book  deserves  high  praise."— BUFFALO  EXPRESS. 

" l  Sophia '  contains,  in  its  earlier  part,  a  series  of  incidents  that  is,  we  believe, 
the  most  ingenious  yet  planned  by  its  author.  .  .  .  The  adventure  develops 
and  grows,  the  tension  increases  with  each  page,  to  such  an  extent  that  tne 
hackneyed  adjective,  'breathless,1  finds  an  appropriate  place." 

—NEW  YORK  MAIL  AND  EXPRESS. 

" '  Sophia,'  his  latest,  is  also  one  of  his  best.  A  delightful  spirit  of  adventure 
hangs  about  the  story ;  something  interesting  happens  in  every  chapter.  The 
admirable  ease  of  style,  the  smooth  and  natural  dialogue,  the  perfect  adjust- 
ment of  events  and  sequences  conceal  all  the  usual  obtiusive  mechanism,  and 


and  genuine  people."— PUBLIC  LEDGER,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

"Those  who  read  Mr.  Stanley  J.  Weyman's  'Castle  Inn'  with  delight,  will 
find  in  his  '  Sophia  '  an  equally  brilliant  performance,  in  which  they  are  intro- 
duced to  another  part  of  the  Georgian  era.  .  .  .  Mr.  Weyman  knows  the 
eighteenth  century  from  top  to  bottom,  and  could  any  time  be  more  suitable 
for  the  writer  of  romance  ?  .  .  .  There  is  only  one  way  to  define  the  subtle 
charm  and  distinction  of  this  book,  and  that  is  to  say  that  it  deserves  a  place  on 
the  book-shelf  beside  those  dainty  volumes  in  which  Mr.  Austin  Dobson  has  em- 
balmed the  very  spirit  of  the  period  of  the  hoop  and  the  patch,  the  coffee-house, 
and  the  sedan  chair.  And  could  Mr.  Stanley  Weyman  ask  for  better  company 
for  his  books  than  that  ?  "—EVENING  SUN,  NEW  YORK. 

"  Contains  what  is  probably  the  most  ingenious  and  exciting  situation  even 
he  has  ever  invented."— BOOK  BUYER,  NEW  YORK. 


LONGMANS,  GREEN.  &  00.,  91-93  FIFTH  AVE,,  NEW  YOBK. 


THE    CASTLE    INN. 

A  ROMANCE. 

BY  STANLEY  J.  WEYMAN. 

AUTHOR  OF  "A  GENTLEMAN  OF  FRANCE,"  "UNDER  THE  RED  ROBE, 

"SHREWSBURY,"  ETC.,  ETC. 


With  six  full-page  Illustrations  by  Walter  Appleton  Clark. 
Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  ornamental,  $  1 .50. 

•'  A  talc  which  is  full  of  old-world  romance  and  adventure.  It  has  a  strong  flavor 
of  the  under  life  in  England  when  George  the  Third  was  young,  when  sign-posts 
served  also  as  gibbets,  when  travel  was  by  coach  and  highwaymen  were  many,  when 
men  drank  deep  and  played  high.  There  are  plenty  of  stirring  scenes  along  the  way, 
plenty  of  treachery  and  fighting  at  cross-purposes  which  lead  to  intricate  and  dramatic 
situations.  The  heroine's  charms  recall  Mile,  de  Cocheforet  in  '  Under  the  Red  Robe,' 
a»d  she  proves  herself  a  maid  of  spirit  through  all  the  mishaps  which  befall  her.  One 
of  the  most  notable  things  about  '  The  Castle  Inn  '  is  the  way  in  which  Mr.  Weyman 
has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  manages  to  imbue  his  readers  with  its  feeling." 

—DETROIT  FREE  PRESS. 

"  .  .  .  .  In  'The  Castle  Inn,' this  master  of  romance  tells  a  story  of  the  time 
of  George  III.  in  the  third  person.  ...  A  story  of  rapid  action,  with  a  swinging 
succession  of  moving  incidents  that  keep  the  reader  incessantly  on  the  qui  vive.  It 
deals  with  human  emotions  with  directness  and  thoughtful  ness." 

—THE  PRESS,  PHILA.,  PA. 

"...  '  The  Castle  Inn  '  .  .  .  is  so  fresh  and  entertaining  that  it  takes  one 
back  to  'A  Gentleman  of  France,'  and  other  good  things  this  author  did  several  years 
ago.  Mr.  Weyman,  in  looking  about  for  an  appropriate  setting  for  his  romance,  very 
wisely  eschews  scenes  and  people  of  to-day,  and  chooses,  instead,  England  a  hundred 
and  thirty  years  ago,  when  George  III.  was  on  her  throne,  and  living  was  a  far  more 
picturesque  business  than  it  is  now.  Beautiful  maidens  could  be  kidnapped  then; 
daring  lovers  faced  pistols  and  swords  in  behalf  of  their  sweethearts,  and  altogether 
the  pace  was  a  lively  one.  Mr.  Weyman  knows  how  to  use  the  attractive  colorings  to 
the  best  advantage  possible."— CHICAGO  EVENING  POST. 

"...  a  piece  of  work  which  is  infinitely  better  than  anything  else  which  he 
has  accomplished.  He  has  treated  the  eighteenth  century,  the  time  of  the  elder  Pitt, 
with  a  grasp  and  a  sympathy  that  presage  a  greater  reputation  for  this  novelist  than 
he  has  enjoyed  hitherto.  The  story  itself  is  worth  the  telling,  but  the  great  thing  is 
the  way  it  is  told."— NEW  YORK  SUN. 

"...  he  has  a  firm  grasp  of  his  period  in  this  book,  and  revives  the  atmos- 
phere of  the  last  century  in  England,  with  its  shallow  graces  and  profound  brutality  > 
coherently  and  even  with  eloquence  .  .  .  it  is  a  most  interesting  story,  which 
should  please  the  reader  of  romantic  tastes  and  sustain  the  author's  reputation." 

—NEW  YORK  TRIBUNE. 

"The  characters  in  the  book  are  all  entertaining,  and  many  of  them  are  droll, 
while  a  few,  like  the  conscientious  Mr.  Fishwick,  the  attorney,  arid  the  cringing 
parasite,  Mr.  Thomasson,  are,  in  their  own  way,  masterpieces  of  character  study. 
Take  it  all  in  all,  '  The  Castle  Inn  '  is  in  many  ways  the  best  work  which  has  yet  come 
from  Mr.  Weyman's  pen."— COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER,  NEW  YORK. 

"  Mr.  Weyman  has  surpassed  himself  in  '  The  Castle  Inn.'  From  coyer  to  cover 
the  book  teems  with  adventure  and  romance,  and  the  love  episode  is  delicious.  Julia 
will  live  as  one  of  the  most  graceful  heroines  in  the  literature  of  pur  time.  .  .  . 
We  get  an  excellent  idea  of  the  doings  of  fashionable  society  in  the  time  when  George 
III.  was  young,  and  altogether  the  volume  can  be  heartily  recommended  as  the  besi 
thing  that  Weyman  has  done,  and,  in  the  opinion  of  one,  at  least,  the  most  fascinating 
book  of  the  season."— HOME  JOURNAL,  NEW  YORK. 


LONGMANS,  GBEEN,  &  CO,,  91-93  FITTH  ATE,,  NEW  YOBK. 


IN  SPITE  OF  ALL 

By  EDNA  LYALL 

AUTHOR  OF  "DONOYAN,"   "  DOREEN,"    "HOPE,   THE  HERMIT,"   ETC.,  ETC. 

Crown  8vo,  cloth,  $1.5O 

"  The  days  when  England  was  rent  with  civil  war,  when  Puritan  and  Cava- 
lier fought  for  Parliament  and  King ;  when  Cromwell's  Roundheads  struggled 
heroically  against  the  lawless  Charles  and  finally  won — this  is  the  period  chosen 
for  this  splendid  story  .  .  .  while  of  necessity  there  is  abundance  of  war,  the 
story  is,  above  all,  one  of  love — tried  and  triumphant  .  .  .  Finely  written, 
full  of  striking  pictures  of  men  and  events. 

The  book  is  full  of  people  with  whom  each  of  us  is  familiar  through  reading 
history,  and  every  one  of  them  is  drawn  with  rare  fidelity  to  truth.  The  tale 
should  have  a  hearty  welcome  from  all  classes  of  readers." 

— NASHVILLE  AMERICAN. 

"  The1  romance  .  .  .  the  familiar  one  of  a  Royalist  maiden  and  a  Puritan 
lover  who  espoused  the  cause  of  the  people  .  .  .  is  of  deep  interest  and  the 
story  thrills  with  the  excitement  of  conflicts  and  adventures,  mingled  with  the 
gentle  influences  of  love. 

The  book  is  pleasing  in  all  respects,  and  the  story  is  exceedingly  well  told^ 
holding  interest  to  the  end.  "—EVERY  EVENING,  WILMINGTON,  DEL. 

"  This  story  of  532  pages  is  one  which  will  win  its  thousands  of  readers,  as  a 
story  of  love  and  trial,  war  and  separation,  must  when  handled  with  the  skill 
which  this  author's  training  has  given  her." — MAIL  AND  EXPRESS,  N.  Y. 

"  It  has  much  historic  interest  .  .  .  A  pretty  romance  holds  the  reader's 
interest  all  through  the  book.  The  hero  is  a  Puritan,  while  the  girl  he  loves, 
Hilary,  as  sweet  and  wilful  and  true  a  maid  as  could  have  been  found  in  those 
stormy  times,  is  a  bishop's  niece  and  therefore  a  Royalist  in  all  her  sympathies. 
There  are  strong  dramatic  scenes  in  the  book — the  battlefield  and  the  political 
intrigue  of  court  life  are  portrayed  and  also  the  religious  strife  existing  at  the 
time.  The  bigotry  of  the  Church  and  the  fanaticism  of  many  of  the  Puritans  is 
well  portrayed.  The  book,  like  all  that  this  author  has  written,  is  interesting 
and  wholesome." — REPUBLICAN,  DENVER,  COL. 

"The  story  is  clean,  pure  and  wholesome,  has  plenty  of  adventure  and  a 
goodly  amount  of  love-making,  and  is  written  in  an  easy,  pleasant  strain  that 
makes  it  an  entertaining  book. " — BALTIMORE  AMERICAN. 

"Is  well  worth  the  reading."— CHURCHMAN,  N.  Y. 

"  The  high  moral  tone  of  the  book  and  its  historical  accuracy  will  commend 
it  to  the  better  class  of  novel  readers." — CONGREGATIONALIST,  BOSTON. 

"The  latest  book  by  Edna  Lyall  may  safely  be  said  to  be  one  of  the  best  of 
recent  historical  novels." — BOSTON  TRANSCRIPT. 


LONGMANS,  GBEEN,  &  CO.,  91-93  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  TOBK. 


CYNTHIA'S  WAY 

By  Mrs.  ALFRED  SIDGWICK 

AUTHOR  OF   "THE  INNER  SHRINE,"   "THE  GRASSHOPPERS,"    ETC. 


Crown  8vo,  cloth,  $1.5O 

"  This  is  a  tale  of  an  heiress  that  is  not  met  with  every  day.  Cynthia  Blount 
is  a  millionairess  whose  wish  it  is  to  be  loved  for  her  own  sake  and  not  for  her 
material  wealth.  As  a  means  to  this  end  she  takes  a  situation,  which  has  been 
offered  to  a  friend,  as  English  governess  in  a  German  family.  .  .  .  German 
family  life  is  very  intimately  and  faithfully  depicted,  and  most  of  the  characters 
are  well  drawn  and  interesting.  *  Cynthia's  Way '  is  well  worth  reading." 

—DAILY  CHRONICLE,  NEWCASTLE,  ENG. 

••  This  is  an  unusually  interesting  book  .  .  .  it  is  so  artistically  handled, 
SO  delightfully  unravelled  that  one  forgets  and  forgives  ...  for  light,  inter- 
esting literature,  a  joy  to  the  traveller,  this  dainty  book  has  not  been  surpassed 
in  many  moons."— SPIRIT  OF  THE  TIMES,  NEW  YORK. 

"  A  delightful  story  of  German  life.  .  .  .  Altogether  the  story  deserves 
higher  praise  than  it  is  possible  to  give  to  the  ruck  of  current  fiction." 

—JOURNAL,  PROVIDENCE,  R.  I. 

"  It  is  a  most  amusing  novel.  .  .  .  For  the  fairness  of  the  book  it  would 
be  unsafe  to  vouch,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  entertaining.  Even  a 
German  might  smile  over  it. "—REPUBLICAN,  SPRINGFIELD,  MASS. 

"The  dialogue  of  the  book  fairly  sparkles,  and  the  light  fiction  of  the  year 
offers  no  more  charming  medium  of  pleasure." — DENVER  REPUBLICAN. 

".This  is  an  amusing,  clever  book,  full  of  humorous  scenes,  a  satirical  under- 
standing of  the  lighter  sides  of  character,  done  with  a  light  touch  and  much 
taste."— COMMERCIAL  ADVERTISER,  N.  Y. 

"There  are  so  few  really  bright  and  entertaining  novels  this  season  that 
4  Cynthia's  Way '  will  be  gladly  seized  upon  by  hungry  novel  readers.  The  style 
is  very  taking  and  amusing." — BOSTON  BEACON. 

"  This  is  a  taking  story,  humorous  and  brisk,  with  a  flavor  of  originality 
that  makes  it  appetizing."— FREE  PRESS,  DETROIT,  MICH. 

"  A  most  readable  story  of  pure  tone  and  interesting  matter  .  .  .  can  be 
heartily  recommended  to  anyone  liking  a  wholesome  tale  of  interesting  people." 

—COURIER-JOURNAL,  LOUISVILLE,  Kv. 

"  Mrs.  Sidgwick's  new  novel,  '  Cynthia's  Way  '—her  cleverest  piece  of  work 
thus  far— reminds  us  strongly  of  '  The  Benefactress."  The  same  fresh,  vivacious, 
and  femininely  ironical  style  marks  the  two  stories  and  wins  upon  the  reader 
with  irresistible  beguilement  No  one  will  put  down  the  history  of  Cynthia,  we 
Imagine,  until  the  last  page  is  reached."— N.  Y.  TRIBUNE. 


LONGMANS,  GREEN,  &  00.,  91-93  FIPTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YOEK. 


THE  WHIRLIGIG 

By  MAYNE  LINDSAY 

AUTHOR    OF   "THE  VALLEY   OF  SAPPHIRES 


With  3  full-page  Illustrations  by  Maurice  Grieffenhagen 
Crown  8vo,  $1 .25 


"Crisp  and  clever  diction,  thrilling  yet  always  possible  situations,  with 
strength  sustained  throughout,  are  the  features  of  the  story.  It  is  a  perfect 
romance." — LLOYDS'  NEWS. 

"  Fairly  takes  one  off  his  feet  with  its  crowded,  impetuous,  bustling  succes- 
sion of  events.  The  story  is  well  told  and  holds  the  interest.  .  .  .  The  story 
while  discoursing  of  dangerous  things  does  it  lightly  and  with  a  skillful  hand." 

— COURIER-JOURNAL,  LOUISVILLE,  KY. 

' '  Makes  stirring  reading  .  .  .  the  action  takes  place  within  three  days, 
and  the  reader  is  carried  along  breathlessly  from  one  chapter  to  another." 

— CHICAGO  TRIBUNE. 

"And  surely  it  is  a  'Whirligig'  which  Mayne  Lindsay  has  devised,  abun- 
dant in  well-preserved  mystery,  with  the  proper  amount  of  sword-play  and  the  due 
complement  of  broken  heads,  and  full  of  exciting  yet  possible  situations.  Mr. 
Lindsay,  though  comparatively  a  new  writer,  shows  nothing  of  the  amateur  in 
this  dashing,  roystering  story,  which,  aside  from  its  incidents,  is  good  in  charac- 
ter drawing."— DETROIT  FREE  PRESS. 

"  The  author  is  a  young  and  comparatively  new  writer,  but  has  shown  un- 
usual skill  and  ingenuity  in  this  novel.  Seldom  has  an  author  succeeded  in 
crowding  two  days  of  a  man's  life  so  full  of  stirring,  unexpected  events  as  are 
here  provided  for  the  hero. " — CHICAGO  EVENING  POST. 

"A  sparkling,  very  prettily  turned  little  romance,  whimsical  and  pictur- 
esque."— NEW  YORK  TIMES. 

"Among  stories  of  adventure  it  would  be  hard  to  match  '  The  Whirligig.' 
.  .  .  It  starts  in  a  quiet,  if  unconventional,  way,  but  once  fairly  launched  on 
the  stream  of  narrative,  the  reader  is  carried  along,  in  breathless,  eager  haste  to 
the  very  end.  It  is  a  story  to  thrill  the  pulses  and  keep  one  on  the  edge  of 
ardent  curiosity  as  to  what  is  going  to  turn  up  next." — THB  BEACON,  BOSTON. 

"  There  is  no  dozing  or  drowsing  to  be  done  over  this  novel.  It  is  a  swiftly 
moving  tale  of  breathless  excitement  It  is  drawn  according  to  a  familiar  pat- 
tern ;  but  it  has  merits  of  its  own  that  will  compel  the  attention  and  absorbed 
interest  of  every  reader  who  once  takes  it  up.  The  writer  is  new,  but  should 
soon  become  well  known  and  popular,  if  he  can  do  this  sort  of  thing  again." 

—PHILADELPHIA  TIMES. 


LONGMANS,  GBEEN,  &  CO.,  91-93  FIPTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


THE  CHEVALIER  D'AURIAC. 

A  ROMANCE. 
BY  S.  LEVETT  YEATS. 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  HONOUR  OF  SAVELU,"  ETC,  ETC. 
1  2mo,  cloth,  ornamental,  $1.25. 

"  The  story  is  full  of  action,  it  is  alive  from  cover  to  cover,  and  is  so  compact  with  thrill. 
ing  adventure  that  there  is  no  room  for  a  dull  page.  The  chevalier  tells  his  own  story,  but 
he  is  the  most  charming  of  egoists.  He  wins  our  sympathies  from  the  outset  by  his  boyish 
naivete,  his  downright  manliness  and  bravery.  .  .  .  Not  only  has  Mr.  Yeats  written  an 
excellent  tale  of  adventure,  but  he  has  shown  a  close  study  of  character  which  does  not  bor- 
row merely  from  the  trappings  of  historical  actors,  but  which  denotes  a  keen  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  a  shrewd  insight  into  the  workings  of  human  motives.  .  .  .  The 
fashion  of  the  period  is  kept  well  in  mind,  the  style  of  writing  has  just  that  touch  of  old- 
fashioned  formality  which  serves  to  veil  the  past  from  the  present,  and  to  throw  the  lights 
and  shadows  into  a  harmony  of  tone.  .  .  .  The  work  has  literary  quality  of  a  genuine 
sort  in  it,  which  raises  it  above  a  numerous  host  of  its  fellows  in  kind/' 

—BOOKMAN,  NEW  YORK. 

"...  A  story  of  Huguenot  days,  brim  full  of  action  that  takes  shape  in  plots,  sud- 
den surprises,  fierce  encounters,  and  cunning  intrigues.  The  author  is  so  saturated  with  the 
tunes  of  which  he  writes  that  the  story  is  realism  itself.  .  .  .  The  story  is  brilliant  and 
thrilling,  and  whoever  sits  down  to  give  it  attention  will  reach  the  last  page  with  regret" 

— GLOBE,  BOSTON. 

"...  A  tale  of  more  than  usual  interest  and  of  genuine  literary  merit  .  .  . 
The  characters  and  scenes  in  a  sense  seem  far  removed,  yet  they  live  in  our  hearts  and  seem 
contemporaneous  through  the  skill  and  philosophic  treatment  of  the  author.  Those  men  and 
women  seem  akin  to  us;  they  are  flesh  and  blood,  and  are  impelled  by  human  motives  as  we 
are.  One  cannot  follow  the  fortunes  of  this  hero  without  feeling  refreshed  and  benefited." 

—GLOBE-DEMOCRAT,  ST.  Louis. 

"  A  book  that  may  be  recommended  to  all  those  who  appreciate  a  good,  hearty,  rollicking 
story  of  adventure,  with  lots  of  fierce  fighting  and  a  proper  proportion  of  love-making.  .  .  „ 
There  is  in  his  novel  no  more  history  than  is  necessary,  and  no  tedious  detail ;  it  is  a  story 
inspired  by,  but  not  slavishly  following,  history.  .  .  .  The  book  is  full  of  incident,  and 
from  the  first  chapter  to  the  last  the  action  never  flags.  ...  In  the  Chevalier  the  author 
has  conceived  a  sympathetic  character,  for  d' Auriac  is  more  human  and  less  of  a  puppet  than 
most  heroes  of  historical  novels,  and  consequently  there  are  few  readers  who  will  not  find  en- 
joyment in  the  story  of  his  thrilling  adventures.  .  .  .  This  book  should  be  read  by  all 
who  love  a  good  story  of  adventures.  There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  it." — NEW  YORK  SUN. 

"A  capital  story  of  the  Dumas- Weyman  order.  .  .  .  The  first  chapters  bring  one 
right  into  the  thick  of  the  story,  and  from  thence  on  the  interest  is  unflagging.  The  Cheva- 
lier himself  is  an  admirably  studied  character,  whose  straightforwardness  and  simplicity, 
bravery,  and  impulsive  and  reckless  chivalry,  win  the  reader's  sympathy.  D'Auriac  has 
something  of  the  intense  vitality  of  Dumas's  heroes,  and  the  delightful  improbabilities  through 
which  he  passes  so  invincibly  have  a  certain  human  quality  which  renders  them  akin  to  our 
day.  Mr.  Levett  Yeats  has  done  better  in  this  book  than  in  anything  else  he  has  written." 

—PICAYUNE,  NEW  ORLEANS. 

"The  interest  in  the  story  does  not  lag  for  an  instant;  all  is  life  and  action.  The  pict- 
uresque historical  setting  is  admirably  painted,  and  the  characters  are  skilfully  drawn,  espe- 
cially that  of  the  king,  a  true  monarch,  a  brave  soldier,  and  a  gentleman.  The  Chevalier  is 
the  typical  hero  of  romance,  fearing  nothing  save  a  stain  on  his  honor,  and  with  such  a  hero 
there  can  not  but  be  vigor  and  excitement  in  every  page  of  the  story." 

—MAIL  AND  EXPRESS,  NEW  YORK. 

"  As  a  story  of  adventure,  pure  and  simple,  after  the  type  originally  seen  in  Dumas'i 
'Three  Musketeers,'  the  book  is  well  worthy  of  high  praise.  — OUTLOOK,  NEW  YORK. 

"  We  find  all  the  fascination  of  mediaeval  France,  which  have  made  Mr.  Weyman's  stories 
such  general  favorites.  .  .  .  We  do  not  see  how  any  intelligent  reader  can  take  it  up 
without  keen  enjoyment" — LIVING  CHURCH,  CHICAGO. 


LONGMANS,  GBEEN,  &  00.,  91-93  FHTH  AVE.,  NEW  TORE. 


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*WK  5261935 


LD  21-100m-8,'34 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


